Eternals
by EloraCooper4
Summary: The group goes to visit a psychic and learns that their souls have crossed paths in other lives.
1. Prologue

_Eternal /i-tur-nel/ adj: 1. Being without beginning or end; existing outside of time 2. Continuing without interruption; perpetual. 3. Forever true or changeless: eternal truths. 4. Seemingly endless; interminable. 5. Of or relating to spiritual communion with God, especially in the afterlife._

_Eternals /i-tur-nels/ n: 1. A group of connected individuals 2. Spiritually: Individuals who meet in various lives throughout history 3. Souls that are bound by love throughout time 4. The cross of the same lives in different ages 5. Those who bypass heaven in order to live again_

She was convinced that there were no more eternals in the world. That friendships and loves so strong no longer existed in this world. That all relationships in the trudging age of the 1990 were false. She saw no everlasting love. Loves that would bend time to their will. She was convinced they didn't exist anymore.

"Madame?" Her assistant Nicole peeked her head inside the chambers.

"What is it Nicole?" She asked in an exhausted tone. If she had to read one more palm, or describe the color of one more aura, she would choke on her false teeth. The magic seemed to move on with the eternals. Now it was only cheap parlor tricks. Everyone knew it. But it hurt those who once Saw bitterly. "Another bored housewife? A set of women wondering about their sex lives? Who is it?"

Nicole bowed to her hesitantly. "No, Madame. It is a group of individuals. Seven of them. The women seem eager…the men hesitant."

"Isn't that the way of life? Women believe in magic so easily. I suppose it is because they can experience the birth of children…the only real magic left in this world," She muttered to herself while brushing her fingertips along her crystal ball.

Nicole bowed again. She was a timid one. "Would you see them?"

"I suppose…one must feed their cats," She said grandly while pushing back her wide sleeves. Her assistant disappeared for a moment to late show in the seven.

She gasped when she saw the first. A blonde man with a leather jacket, his soul and aura a green color…but it wasn't simply his aura or his looks that shocked the old gypsy woman. It was Roger's soul. "It can't be…"

A young woman followed him in a vibrant smile on her delicate face. Her aura a scorching red, filled with passion and drive. Mimi. She too bear the mark.

A man dressed in woman's clothes followed her. His aura far brighter than the other two. She could sense that his fire would soon be extinguished. She caught his name was Angel. It fit his form. Angel's aura stretched to encompass the man beside him. A large black man looking around the room as if it was a slaughter house. His precious theories in jeopardy. The aura from his lover, Tom, attached to his deep purple. Their bond was strong.

Another woman entered giggling and clapping her hands in excitement. "This is gonna be so much fun!" Her aura a glittering orange wishing to be seen. The woman that followed her seemed more reluctant. A drab brown encircled her as she groaned. A non-believer. Maureen and Joanne.

The last to join them had an icy cool blue exterior. Mark, who's in the dark. His camera in hand and his soul aching for a family that was right in front of him.

A smile spread across the old gypsy woman's face. They were eternals.

"I had thought you were all long gone," She said raising from her chair and moving to take the hand of every eternal.

"Huh?" Mark asked looking uncomfortable about touching a strange woman's hands.

The woman smirked. "Eternals dear. Those who defy time to be with one another. Each of you has lived lives before this one. And time and time again your lives have crossed. Some stronger than others…it is amazing that you all found a collective time. It's so difficult to maintain a single bond as it is. All seven of you…why it hasn't happened in centuries."

The blonde leaned over to the young woman and muttered. "I think we got ourselves a nut job-"

"Roger," The woman folded her hands. "I am not insane. I only See what has been fading for generations. Eternals…but you seem to be stragglers."

"Sounds like us…straggling I mean," Collins chuckled nudging Angel lightly who wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. Then he nodded in agreement.

Joanne sighed and looked at her cell phone. "I better get going. Meeting." She kissed her girlfriend's cheek and headed to the door.

"Not until two dear," The woman said taking a seat. "You have some time."

"Busted," Maureen giggled taking the lawyer's hands.

Mark looked around at his friends and said quietly, "When you say…we're eternals…can you see our past lives? Like see…what happened to us in them?"

She nodded holding out her arms. "Yes. Some of your were great friends. At times, enemies. Lovers. Husbands and wives. Two of you even had children together."

Everyone looked at Roger and Mimi.

"Hey!" Roger muttered.

The woman laughed heartily. He had barely changed from age to age. "Not them. Not them."

Everyone turned to now look at Maureen and Mark.

"Ew," Maureen uttered wrinkling her nose. "Sorry Markie but…no thanks."

"You're wrong again," The woman said starting to enjoy this guessing game. She raised one finger to land on Collins and the other on Joanne.

"WHAT!?" Angel called out looking at Collins as if he was currently having sex with Joanne right in front of his eyes.

Collins raised his brow. "Baby…I'm sure…I didn't know you…" He said lamely.

Joanne put her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry…Madame…whatever you're name is but…I'm a lesbian and Collins is gay. So that would never work," She explained as if she was defending the two of them in a court of law.

The woman didn't seem phased. "I never said that you were in love. Only that you had children." Angel sighed in relief and hugged Collins as if he missed him in the past moments. The philosopher rubbed her back gently still looking very confused.

Mark licked his lips and took a seat in front of the woman. "How?"

"Well you see Mark…when two people…kinda like each other-" Mimi smacked the back of Roger's head.

"That's not what I meant…" Mark muttered.

The woman nodded. "I will tell you their story if you like. Though it is long and hard and painful."

"Sounds familiar," Roger whispered to himself. Mimi pecked his cheek making his frown relent.

Joanne groaned. "How much do you want? A hundred? Thousand?"

The woman held out her hands, "For you…the last eternals? I will tell you your tales for free. But I ask only one thing of you."

"What's that?" Maureen asked moving closer.

"Believe."

First tale: Josephine and Ty.


	2. Josephine and Ty

Note: So wow guys. I thought that I would get reviews with only the word "weirdo" haha. I'm glad you guys are open to the idea. Just to let you know I'm not a history buff though I really love to learn about it. So if there are inaccuracies I'm sorry. Also dialects…not even try. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews guys!

Spring 1832 Virginia

"Josephine! Josephine!" A high pitched voice squealed.

The woman took a deep breath. It was never a good sign when her little mistress ran around the house calling out her name. Either that meant that more guests were coming to dinner that she wasn't prepared for or another one of her people was sold to the neighbors. It was never a good sign.

"What is a Bridget?" Josephine asked refusing to look at the little white girl in pigtails. Supper had to be finished before sundown and there was dough at her hands that had to be kneaded.

The girl grinned up at her father's slave and said, "Daddy wants to see you."

Josephine paused. "He does now? And why do you think that is?"

"He's got a surprise for you," Bridget said looking at the work that Josephine continued.

"And what type of a surprise?" Josephine asked getting impatient. The child usually had a loose tongue. She was willing to give information to anyone if you asked her the right question. Whatever the master wanted to discuss…it had to be of some importance.

Bridget grinned and shook her whole body. "Can't tell, Josephine. Then it wouldn't be a surprise!" She explained poking her finger into the dough.

Josephine looked down at the little girl. "Fine. Do I have to go now? I need to work on supper-"

"He said right now!" Bridget said doing an impersonation of her father's pointed finger waving in the air.

The woman sighed to herself. This was definitely not good. "Penelope? Can you take over preparations for supper?" She asked looking back at her assistants. They all nodded to her glad to be rid of her. Josephine was a wonderful cook but a harsh teacher.

She carefully took off her apron and followed Bridget through the house. It was a grand one. A mansion that most other Virginian plantation owners dreamt about owning. Walls covered with 14-carat gold leaf. Mirrors from Paris. Plates from China. Josephine's owners spared no expense, which was perhaps why they had to sell many of their slaves from time to time. Not that they couldn't spare a few. There were almost a hundred human beings owned by the Greys.

Josephine knocked politely on the door of Dr. Grey's office. She heard some mumble from inside which must have been an invitation of entrance. Bridget pushed her way ahead of Josephine and ran to sit on her father's lap. The man laughed making him look over ten years younger, even though his wrinkles and white hair made his age clear. Josephine took a step inside and then froze to see another man in the room. Ty. She recognized him from the services that were held in the barn every Sunday. He never seemed to be paying attention to the readings. His eyes always wondering among the crowds and in the clouds.

Josephine wanted to know what was going on…now.

"Josephine. Our great cook. Come stand beside Ty," Dr. Grey said motioning to the man as if he was a prize horse.

She did as she was told, daring to glance over at Ty. He let his eyes wander down to meet hers as well. They were a deep deep brown. And warm.

"Ha!" Dr. Grey let out. "It's done. Won't they make perfect offspring, Bridget?"

Josephine's head snapped to look at the man who owned her. So this was what he wanted. He wanted them to produce more humans to sell of their debts. She looked over to Ty to see his reaction. The man's face was dark and almost angry.

"The two of you…I expect a child in nine months," Dr. Grey explained. "Yes…with your skills as a cook and your muscles in the fields. You will create wonderful offspring." Bridget let out a cheer following her father's excitement. "You may leave now…you both have the rest of the day off." He nodded to them as if he was offering them a gold plate.

Both Ty and Josephine mumbled their thank you's as it was expected. They slowly walked from the house into the slave quarters. There was no word shared between them. The shock of being forced to be with a stranger…it wasn't an odd occurrence of the time. But Josephine had hoped to be passed over. To never have children. To never have to deal with the heartache when her family was ripped apart.

Ty held the door open for Josephine. She nodded a thank you and sat down hard onto a chair. Who was this man? All she knew that was he was strong and a dreamer. That wasn't a basis for an intimate relationship. Ty closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.

Then he broke their silence. "We can delay…as long as we can," He said quietly, "I won't force myself…"

"I appreciate that," Josephine muttered refusing to meet those warm eyes.

Ty let his body fall onto the ground. He picked up a stalk of hay and began to shred it with his warn fingers. "I heard you sing at services. You have a nice voice."

"Thank you," She said quickly giving him the signal to stop the conversation.

But he didn't. "The words in service. They're all the same. Can you read?"

Josephine had to look at him now, with a face of confusion. It was illegal for all slaves to read. "Wh…of course I can't. It's illegal."

A smirk spread across the man's face. "That don't mean it don't happen." He leaned over and took hold of a twig. Then he wrote a lopsided "a" and a bottom heavy "b". "They're all I know. I wanna learn more though. At…my last place. I was a slave for a reverend," He snorted to himself. A man of God with a slave. "He would read to us. The Bible mostly. Bored me…still does. But he would read…Kant. And Socrates. Those are the books I want to read."

"Well…you have a ways to go," Josephine said looking at his poorly written letters.

"So you can read?" Ty's smirk spread.

Josephine was taken aback. "Oh…I do know. I know a few words…" Her eyes met with Ty's. And she knew that whatever she said to him was in utmost confidence. She continued, "My mother was taught when she was a little girl. She taught me in return."

"You talk like it," Ty said nodding slowly. "You're real lucky…so how'd I do?" He asked pointing to the letters.

She winced trying to think of good things to say. Her kitchen girls always said she was a hash critic. But this man seemed like he might not be able to take the slightest bit of her harsh tongue. "You got the shape of them right…here," Josephine moved to sit down next to him. Then she took the twig and corrected his letters. "See?"

"Oh," Ty said craning his neck. "I do…" He licked his lips as he studied the newly formed letters.

"Do…do you want me to teach you?" Josephine asked before she could even think about the prospect. What would happen to them if Dr. Grey found out?

Ty smiled deeply and Josephine was sure that smile could melt the heart of many, "You wouldn't be afraid?"

"Would you?" She asked him trying to maintain an impersonal air.

He shook his head. "I'm never afraid…was gonna revolt a few months back. But then the snow came."

Josephine's eyes went wide. "What?"

Ty shrugged as if it was no big deal. "We can't just stand by…allow them to own us. There are whites in the North that wanna help. If we make enough noise then we'll force them to act…but I couldn't, not in the snow."

"And are you personally carrying out this revolution?" Josephine asked wondering if the man she was sitting next to was absolutely insane.

"It only takes one voice," Ty said calmly while taking up the hay stalk to shred once again. "So you'll teach me how to read?"

Josephine tried hard not to smile. She tried not to like this man. He was not invited into her life. He was forced on her. She shouldn't like him. She should hate him for all that he stands for. But…she smiled.

"Yes I'll teach you."

* * *

A month passed. The budding flowers that were growing along the mansion started to bloom. Bridget jumped after butterflies under the watchful eyes of her old wet nurse. The workers in the field were starting to feel the heat in the middle of the day. But they enjoyed the beginning of the cool evenings. Josephine specifically designated those cool evenings as reading time. 

"And…thus…says…the…Lord…do…uhh.." Ty pointed to the word.

"Unto," Josephine said looking over his shoulder.

"Oh," Ty leaned his head on his hand. "And thus says the Lord unto…" He pretended to fall asleep on Josephine's shoulder.

The woman laughed and pushed him off her. "Stop that. You have to get back to your reading. You were all eager to learn. Now you are dragging your feet. Go read," She slapped his face gently.

"But…can't you find another book? Anything? I'll take a list of chores over this," Ty grumbled dropping the Bible into Josephine's lap.

"You better watch your words around Brutus. He heard you saying such things about the Holy Book he would be rather unhappy," Josephine said carefully putting the Bible aside. There were many people on the plantation that took their religion quite seriously. In fact, Ty seemed to be one of the only ones who refused religion out right. But then again…Ty never ran with the crowd.

Ty shrugged, as always, not worried about his safety. "It's only my opinion. It's not threatening his view. I have mine and he has his."

Josephine shook her head while laughing. "I doubt he'll see it in such a way." Their lessons were definitely progressing. As was their relationship. And as Ty promised he didn't lay a hand on her. Not even in a friendly manner. Despite his inaction, Josephine couldn't remember ever feeling so warmly about anyone. His crazy ideas made her conservative nature quiver with excitement. She would follow him in any of his crazy schemes…and he had quite a few. One involved letting all of the cattle into the mansion and blaming it on a chicken.

"Ah well," Ty smiled leaning against the wall of their quarters. "If he tries to hit me…I can duck." Josephine laughed again. That was another thing about him. She had never laughed so much in her life. She had never had a real friend before. And that's what he was to her…a friend. Her best friend.

"Oh you are a man indeed. Very brave. I'll duck," Josephine teased.

Ty raised his brow. "And what would you do Miss Jo? Yell at him for breaking the proper etiquette of speech patterns?" Josephine hit his shoulder as they erupted in giggles. She continued to slap him lightly through their smiles. "I give up! I give up!" He yelled out.

"The great Ty…I don't believe it!" She said until Ty took a hold of her arms.

"Good thing cause I was lying. I don't give up," Ty chuckled.

Then the two paused realizing how close they were. That they could feel each other's breath on their skin. Their eyes met and closed as they leaned in to kiss. Lips met for a brief moment. Josephine pulled back slowly and gulped.

Ty did the same and whispered. "Anything?"

Josephine took her hands away and frowned. "No."

"Me either," Ty muttered leaning against the door.

"You know we can't…we can't delay much longer. Dr. Grey already assumes that I'm with child," Josephine explained looking down into her lap.

"I know…"Ty said taking a deep breath. "I…I really do care about you Jo. You're the best friend I had…but I don't…"

Josephine nodded knowing exactly how he felt, "Have any intimate feelings for me. I know…I'm the same. Truthfully…I've never felt that way for any man."

"Nor I for any woman," Ty whispered.

"Aren't we a pair?" Josephine said with a small smile. "Trying to fall in love at all costs. And failing miserably."

Ty nodded slowly. "But I do love you. More than anyone."

"Do you think that could get us through? That kind of love?" Josephine asked herself as well as Ty. After a few moments of silence she added. "I suppose it will have to."

Ty wrapped his arm around Josephine and kissed her temple. "I suppose." She turned to cup his face with her hands and gazed at her best friend. His warm eyes, his large grin. She loved him. Carefully she leaned in to kiss him again. And this time she expected no fire, no burst of lightning. The kiss was only a sign of love for her friend. He kissed her back gently not daring to push her.

Josephine took her lips away. "If I was ever to have children…I'd want to have yours…" She admitted to him.

"If I was ever to give anyone children…I would want you to carry them," Ty murmured.

And in the end, love was enough.

* * *

"Ty…why didn't you tell me that twins ran in your family?" Josephine asked eyeing her two children both in Ty's large arms. Her labor was long and hard, but it seemed like Josephine was strong enough despite Ty's worries. The two of them watched two slaves die of childbirth in the nine months they waited for their own children. It gave neither of them a calm mind. However, all was well. 

Ty chuckled his eyes transfixed on his children, "I never knew my parents. But I do apologize…no wonder you were so large." He winked at one of the babies that yawned and nuzzled himself up to his father's chest. Their daughter lay asleep sucking on her thumb as if she wasn't just thrust into the world an hour ago.

"Indeed," Josephine whispered feeling exhausted but too excited to see her children to fall asleep. Every woman who saw her large stomach told her that having children made one fall in love faster than ever before. Josephine laughed off the idea…but it was true. She was in love with her children.

The midwife of the slaves grinned. "It really is a miracle. So much could have gone wrong. These two are charmed."

"They must have inherited their father's determination," Josephine offered.

"Or their mother's stubbornness," Ty suggested with a quiet laugh.

The midwife shook her head. "Either way. You are very lucky-"

"TWINS?!" Dr. Grey barged into the slaves quarters his eyes filled with excitement. "And all healthy? What a good omen for us all. They will be strong. I will be sure to put that in their profiles." He moved over to look at the children. Ty watched him carefully a look of suspicion in his eyes.

"Excuse me master…but profile?" Josephine asked.

Dr. Grey didn't seem daunted. "They'll be sold just as soon as they are weaned. I knew that you two would create wonderful stock."

Ty's face grew hard and Josephine could see that he was clenching his teeth.

"So…so soon?" She asked appalled at the notion.

Dr. Grey nodded. "Research says that young slaves don't even need their mother's milk. But I like to believe that it is worth the wait. Take care of these two," He said with a smile. Then without another word he left.

The midwife turned to the new parents to see Josephine break out in tears. "He can't…he can't take them…I…he can't," She sobbed. The midwife ran to her side and patted the mother's back.

"It is custom…be glad you have your children until they are weaned…some mothers don't have that privilege," She pointed out with a frown.

Josephine's cries showed no sign of stopping. And the midwife gave her no real comfort. "Ty…Ty what are we going to do?" She asked between tears. Her best friend was too quiet through all of this.

"We'll run away," Ty whispered refusing to take his eyes off the twins. "We are going to stay together. The four of us. We'll find a way." He leaned down to kiss both of the children tenderly. Then he passed them off to the midwife and Josephine. "I'll find a way." Ty ignored Josephine's calls to come back. To be complacent. If she was to loose her children she didn't want to loose their father as well.

* * *

"Josephine! Josephine!" Bridget's young voice called out. 

The woman closed her eyes and continued to knead the dough. Supper needed to get done even earlier so she could take the babies who were currently in her helpers' hands. Molly was very well behaved, the baby seemed to be too busy always taking her surroundings to make too much of a fuss. And Isaac. Well he was always making a fuss. Josephine was sure that there was too much of his father in him and reminded Ty of that on a regular basis.

"Josephine! Josephine!" Bridget repeated grabbing onto the woman's skirts.

Josephine took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"Can't you hear? Eli told on him," Bridget said looking outside of the windows with wary eyes.

"What do you mean? He told on who?" Josephine asked the girl a pang of fear landing in her stomach. Could they have figured it out? Found Ty's plans?

"Your husband," Bridget muttered.

Josephine's hands left the dough and glanced back at the babies. "Watch them," She replied then running from the kitchen out into the front of the mansion. "No!" She screamed.

It was one of her worst nightmares. Ever since she learned about Ty's aspirations of something more. His hands were tied to a wooden platform. His chest heaving up and down trying to prepare himself. Dr. Grey ignored Josephine's cries and snapped the whip against her best friend's back. Ty let out a grunt but refused to give his master the satisfaction of a scream.

"No!" Josephine ran into the crowd that gathered. The slaves, overseers, and Grey family members, as if it was entertainment. The Greys even let out cheers at the sound of the whip.

She moved among them to see Ty's back. It was covered in blood and welts that were as long as his back. An overseer heard her cries and held her back as she attempted to reach him. She fought him with all of her energy. Kicking, punching, screaming. But no matter what she did, the whip would not be stayed.

Hours later, Josephine delicately put a wet compress on Ty's sore and bloody back.

"What happened?" She asked quietly.

Ty hissed as the water spread along his wounds. "Eli saw me…talking to the man that said he would help us. Bastard…I never liked Eli," He muttered before yelling out. "What are you putting on those cloths?"

"Soap," Josephine said simply. "You should have been more careful…"

Ty closed his eyes hard trying to move past the pain. "I thought I was."

She nodded and started to carefully wipe off the blood from his back. "I suppose…there is no way out now is there?" It was a dream. To run off. The four of them never to be separated. To be an actual family. Josephine dreamt of that possibility since she was first with child. Imagining raising a child on her own terms. And Ty being the amazing father that she knew he could be. But sometimes…dreams were just dreams.

"Maybe…" Ty whispered, "I can still get in touch with Matthew. He said that he would-"

"No Ty," Josephine snapped. "I'm not going to have you go through this again. You managed to bear thirty lashes. What will happen next time? Forty? Fifty? No man can survive that much of a beating, even you. And I don't care if you think that you can make it through. I cannot bear to watch you being hurt like that again. I can't bear it."

Ty looked up at her and whispered, "But…there is a way out. Now there is a way. Matthew was going to get us out of here tonight."

"Dear, you cannot stand nevertheless run," Josephine muttered wringing out the water logged cloths.

"Then you…the three of you go. Dr. Grey won't expect you to go tonight. He knows that you care for me…he'd never suspect you to leave tonight," Ty explained his eyes starting to light up with the prospect.

Josephine paused knowing that his words were true. There wasn't even an overseer guarding their quarters. "But…you said that you wanted the four of us to be…to be safe. The four of us."

"Now it's the three of you. I don't care what they do to me," Ty admitted quietly. "Just as long as you three are free…I don't care. Please Josephine...go. For our children."

"I…I can't leave you," Josephine argued weakly. He was her support. The only way she survived childbirth and carrying twins. Without him…

Ty closed his eyes and whispered, "If you don't…they'll take Isaac and Molly away. They are almost done breast feeding…you know that as well as I. You have to go now…if you want them to stay with you. Matthew is waiting on the hill for us tonight…please go."

Josephine blinked away tears that were forming in her eyes. "But what if I never see you again?" As soon as Dr. Grey realized that she and the babies were gone in the morning…Ty would be the one to pay. "What if I never see you again?" She repeated.

"If not in this life…than in the next," Ty whispered holding out his weak arm. Josephine took it and kiss his palm as tears erupted from her face. "Go…please run, Jo."

She let out a sob and then turned leaving the slave quarters forever.

* * *

Matthew readjusted the spectacles on his nose and pushed strands of his red hair into his hat. While he was waiting for his new friends he always was a nervous wreak. How could he not? He squinted at his pocket watch through the darkness. Ty was late. Very late. Something could have gone wrong. Matthew looked back behind his shoulder and then turned back to see a woman with a large bundle in her arms. 

"Matthew?" She asked her voice cracking and weak.

The man jumped from his wagon and ran to the woman. "Are you Ty's wife?"

"I am," Josephine whispered. "And these are his children. We have to leave tonight. He was found out…we have to go."

Matthew nodded and carefully guided Josephine to the wagon. "Here…I'll be bringing you to a friend's tonight. Then you will move the next night across the forest. Can you do this? It may be hard on your own…with the babes."

Josephine looked down at them. Molly was fast asleep and Isaac let out a tiny yawn. "I can."

"Good," Matthew helped her up next to him on the wagon and took his place at the reigns. Soon they were moving out into the darkness. Out into freedom.

Josephine's eyes were locked on the plantation where she had lived her whole life. Where her mother died. Where she meet Ty. Where she gave life to her children. Where Ty was now…suffering through his wounds. He was alone.

"If not in this life…than the next," She whispered to herself. "If not in this life than in the next."

Next tale: Melody and Russell


	3. Melody and Russell

Note: Love to all of you. I really am excited that you guys like this. I don't like this chapter as much as the first but it's pretty good. By the way I shamelessly stole from the English Patient here. But first a short reaction…

Joanne looked over at Collins tears in her eyes. Her friend was staring at the ground while Angel rubbed his back gently. Could any of it be true? A part of her wanted to refuse it. There was no way that people could have lived previous lives. It just didn't make sense. And technically if they did, to find that other soul time and time again…was practically impossible. It couldn't be true.

If only the story hadn't made her feel so empty.

"Baby…" Maureen whispered in Joanne's ear. "You wanna go?"

Her girlfriend shook her head. "No…I'm ok. It just feels…too real."

Collins' eyes met her and he nodded. "Too real." Angel kissed his cheek reassuringly. What the drag queen wanted to know was what happened to Ty and Josephine. Just as the woman began to describe Ty, she knew it was Collins. And she loved him no matter what life he was in. With or without her.

The gypsy woman smiled gently. "That is because it is real."

"What happened? To them?" Mimi asked cautiously. Her eyes were long puffy from crying.

Roger watched his girlfriend with suspicion. "You're buying this? All of you?" Mark raised his head; eyes were also filled with tears. The rocker rolled his eyes. "It's just a story. She could tell what Collins and Joanne were like from just meeting them. She made it all up!" Roger said throwing his arms into the air.

"Shall I continue with another tale? Perhaps then you will believe, Roger," The woman said folding her hand civilly.

"Please do…" Mark said quietly. "Who's next?"

"Russell and Melody."

Winter 1944 Belgium

"10,000," Dr. Tilsdale muttered under his breath. "Did you hear those statistics, Melody? 10,000…all of them dead. I don't even want to know the number of wounded. Thank the good Lord they didn't call us in to help." The doctor put his feet up on the antique ottoman, which matched the Belgium décor of the grand household.

Melody tucked a few pieces of her brown curly hair into her nurse's hat trying not to be…too angry. "Course. Why should we ever help the thousands of wounded when we have generals with corns to take care of?" She said loudly with no fear of a reaction. Melody was known for being a loud mouth. The other nurses reminded the woman that with her attitude she would never get a husband. But this didn't really seem to bother her.

Dr. Tilsdale frowned deeply. "We must protect those who are the most important to the war!"

"The generals that sit on their glorified asses while the soldiers are dying in the bitter cold?" Melody asked with a sweet grin on her face.

"Miss Johan! You are on shaky ground!" Dr. Tilsdale argued his olive face turning into a deep red. A simple nurse mouthing off like that? To him? Sure, he heard about her mouth but…in the few months they were stationed together…somehow he managed to avoid it.

Melody saluted the doctor. "Pardon me, doctor. Just the loose tongue of a wild woman in the war to end all wars. I'll have to lie down until I come to my senses." With that, the nurse turned and walked out of the living room. She didn't have to deal with this. Even though she was technically in the army, the war was too hard, too deep for her superiors to do anything to her. Also, she was a damn good nurse. They wouldn't touch her.

She traveled through the Belgium mansion paying no attention to its lofty decorations. They were too over the top for her liking. Melody just preferred that the rich spread their money around with the poor. A concept that would probably send her family into a coma. That was one reason why she joined up. The prospect of never seeing her lofty family again was quite an exciting notion.

With a deep breath, she pushed open the side door of the kitchen and stood out in the snow. It was up to her ankles now. Melody couldn't help but imagine what it was like to fight in these conditions. To fight in any condition. The more and more that Melody thought about it, the more that she hated this. She knew they had to…Hitler and all. But she had to wonder if they're was a better way to solve all this. Maybe play a game of checkers?

Melody pushed her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. She placed it carefully on her lips and then lit it up with an eager match. When the wisps of smoke hit her lungs she moaned in pleasure. There were really few things left in this war that gave Melody happiness. Her sneak smokes were one of them.

"Hey…can I bum one off you?" A voice said from beside her.

The nurse screamed and put her hand to her chest. Sitting in the snow, only a foot away from her, was an American solider. His dirty blonde hair stuck out from his helmet. It hadn't been washed in ages. His lips were chapped, old skin peeling off to reveal the new. And his deep green eyes were exhausted. But this wasn't what caught Melody's attention at first. It was his leg. His uniform had been pulled back to expose his bloody and ravaged limb. It looked like someone had taken a knife to it in many places. New colors lining its wounds hinting at a repeated infection. And it might have had a hint of frostbite.

"Mary, mother of God!" Melody whispered to herself. "You can have more than a cigarette. Let me help you inside." She dropped to his level but the solider took a hold of her arm.

"You can't…you can't," He said breathlessly.

Melody raised her brow. "I can and I will. It's my job to fix up people and I don't take lightly to those people being stubborn."

"No…you don't understand," The solider took a deep breath which was more of a wheeze. "If they found me here…I would be disgraced. I can't have that happen to me. I got family back home. They can't know what I did. No…I'll stay here. And wait it out."

"Um…no you won't," Melody pulled the soldier's arm around her shoulder. "They're gonna be too happy that you're alive to worry about whatever you went and did." Even though she said that she knew exactly what this soldier did. You would never see a solider on his own unless he deserted. It was a crime in wartime. But all Melody cared about was seeing to that leg.

The solider pulled away from her. "No!"

Melody stood up and put her hands on her hips. "How about I just bring you inside and we can worry about other people later? I'll hide you ok? Not that there is too many people around here anyway." That was one of the few pluses of being one of the general's personal nurses. The general lived in the house along with his attendants and medical staff. That was it. And most of them were usually in meetings. They would never notice an extra edition to the household.

"Fine…but I'm doing so only under protest," The solider said as Melody pulled him up. The man let out a groan. Apparently, trying to put pressure on his leg was a bad idea.

"You got it solider. What's your name by the way? Or should I call you gimpy?" She asked while carefully helping him into the house so he didn't have to walk on his leg.

The soldier chuckled then paused. "That was weird…I haven't heard the sound of laughter in….a long while." Melody smiled. It was her job really. To keep everyone's spirits up. At least it would have been that way if they allowed her on the front lines. "My name is Russell. Sergeant."

Melody nodded. "Hello, Sergeant Russell. I'm Melody. And I'll be your nurse for the duration of your stay," She said in an overly happy voice.

Russell smiled and then asked her quietly. "How does it look? The leg?"

The nurse ignored his question until she placed him carefully onto her own bed. "There…now let me get you some fluffy pillows." She scurried over to the chest of draws and shifted through the bedding.

Russell pulled himself up and gulped. "Shouldn't I lay on the couch? I don't wanna take the bed from you."

"I'm usually not in it anyway," Melody winked at him. There were always attractive Captains and reporters around to talk to the general. Some of the nurses weren't so bad either. "You can have it. The sofa is fine by me." She came over and gave the man extra pillows which she propped up his leg with.

"So?" Russell said looking down at his leg. "What's the verdict?"

Melody hated this part. Telling them what would happen. Her gut was usually a good indicator of a person's probability of living. Years of work at the New York Emergency Room taught her that much. And from one look at this guy…she knew. And with a careful inspection of Russell's leg she knew why. Gangrene. If only he had gone to a doctor on the fronts. Instead of wandered off. Than maybe his life could have been saved. "It's not looking too good, Russell…I'm sorry."

"Is there anything that can be done?" Russell asked a slight twinge of fear running across his handsome face.

The nurse licked her lips and sat beside him, taking his hand in her own. "We could amputate the leg. But even then…I believe that the infections have taken over most of your body…how long have you had this wound?"

Russell closed his eyes. "Three days. I crawled towards the light of the house. For three days. I thought…that maybe it was a kind Belgium family. That would help me…that shows you how…messed up my head was. Now I'm back in the frying pan. A general's station right?" He snorted at himself. "They could perform the court martial right here…on my death bed."

"Stop," Melody said with a frown. "Stop being so…pessimistic. I'm not going to let them find you. I might call the doctor in so he can perform the amputat-"

"I don't want you to cut my leg off," Russell said in a biting tone.

The nurse raised her brow and took her hand away. "Well fine then. Then you're surely die! And this will be your deathbed. Don't you want to get home to that family that you were alluding to earlier? They won't care if you don't have a leg or not. They'll be happy that you'll be alive."

Russell shook his head. "All they'll see is a invalid with a mark of traitor on his face. I want to keep my leg. It's done good by me all these years."

"MELODY! The general would like a word with you!" A voice called from behind the door. Melody rolled her eyes. The general thought that Melody was quite a pretty lady, but sadly his affections were not returned. But every day he tried to convince her to stay in his bed.

"I'll be back in a few," The woman said jumping off the bed and going to the door. "Oh wait…." She turned around and started to dig in her medical bag. Then she handed Russell a few pills. "Pain relievers. Take them." With that she left the deserted soldier on his own.

Melody followed Iris who huffed as they walked. "I don't understand why you don't take advantage of the general's offers. He would be a-"

"Great sugar daddy?" Melody asked knowing that her fellow nurse was about to say something resembling that phrase. "I'm only with people who I find attractive, Iris. Inside and out. I don't find a general to hides his tail between his legs attractive."

Iris sighed and pushed open the door of the general's office. "You're a fool."

Melody shrugged. "Then what does that make you?" She asked slipping through the door. "Hello, General Hall. Can I help you?"

The man smiled hearing her voice. "Well yes Nurse. I believe you can."

Just then the sound of an explosion shook the household. Melody threw herself on the ground and covered her head as some of the light fixtures came crashing down onto the ground. The general grabbed his phone and started to scream into it.

"What the fuck is going on?! I was told that this area would be safe!" The man didn't seem to mind the parts of the house falling down around him.

Melody pulled herself up from the ground as the explosions stopped. "Russell…" She whispered to herself. "General…" She started to say but then she waved her hand. The man was too busy being angry to realize what was going on around him.

With a deep breath, Melody ran through the mansion towards her bedroom. She threw the door open. "Russell!" She called out running inside. The solider looked scared, but he was fine. All of the fixtures managed to stay on the walls and ceilings.

"What's going on?" The solider asked his chest rising and falling quickly.

Melody ran to his side and took his hand. "It's ok…it was just a freak occurrence I'm sure." As if the fates wanted to prove her wrong, another explosion wracked the household. Melody covered Russell's body with her own as she waited for the sounds and shakes to stop. Russell closed his eyes tightly and buried himself in Melody.

Finally, the explosions stopped again. It must have been time to reload. Melody pulled herself up and looked around panicking. What could they do? They had to get out.

"Melody!" Dr. Tilsdale stuck his head in the room. "We're evacuating. We have to…who is that?" He asked pointing to Russell's figure on the bed.

"He's a hurt solider…and it's my duty to help him," Melody said proudly. She wasn't going to desert Russell. Not like this. The solider watched her in awe. There was so much that she could have said. But she was supporting a traitor.

Dr. Tilsdale stepped in the room. "Are you out of your mind? He's a traitor! Not worth you saving! And we have to go so leave him here and-"

"No!" Melody said her eyes fiery.

"We cannot carry this man to safety…and by the looks of his leg he's going to die anyway. So leave him and come on," The doctor yelled moving towards the door.

"No," Melody said quietly. Her voice drowned out by more explosions. "Go Dr. Tilsdale," She called out. "I'm not leaving him here alone. Go!"

The doctor seemed more afraid of the shellfire outside to argue. He slammed the door behind him and left the nurse and the solider alone.

"Are you insane?" Russell asked wincing at the shots being fired. "You could be captured. Tortured…you need to go. You said I was gonna die anyway, go."

Melody shook her head. "I'm upholding what I promised to do." And no one should have to die alone, she added to herself. "So…Russell…tell me about yourself."

"WHAT?" The soldier screamed over the shots being fired. "You really should go."

"Family…you said you had a family. Tell me about them," Melody said calmly and confidently. She knew that the shells would stop. That the minute that the Nazis got view of the General leaving they would move back. They would change their course. They would have to assume that everyone went out of the building. After all, any one would be insane to stay…

Russell closed his eyes for a moment and then said, "I have parents. A kid sister. And a dog. Well two dogs. The one kinda just…." He held his breath as the shots seemed to come closer. "He comes and goes."

"What are their names?" She asked quickly.

"My parents…Edna and George. My sister…Grace. You wanna know the dogs, too?"

"Why not? It's not like we got much better to do."

Russell had to smile. "Lulu and Bobo. My sister was little when she named them…she's twelve now…I promised that I would bring her my dog tags. That she could wear them around her neck when I got back," He explained with a distance in his eyes taking no notice to the beginning of silence in the distance.

"You must be pretty close with her," Melody whispered while pulling herself up. "I have a little brother. He's seventeen…we fought like hellcats though. Most of my family doesn't get along with me. I can't understand why."

Russell stayed quiet and only grinned. He had only known the woman for an hour or two…but she was more than formidable. Most in his neighborhood would probably huddle in fear from her. Russell knew he would.

Melody stood up slowly and glanced out of the window. "I think we'll be ok now. We'll just sit here…and get to know each other more. As soon as they come back we can give someone a call if the lines are still up…if not…the General will send for me." There were perks to being lusted after by a General.

"Ok…" Russell said quietly leaning back in the pillow more. "What do we talk about?"

"I don't know…anything. What do you want to talk about Russell?" Melody asked. She pressed her hand on his forehead and frowned. The man took no notice of her hand or the heat.

"That dog Bobo…he always pretends like he's wounded. He hobbles and whines…but I think he realized that people take pity on him that way. Give him more food. Cause we brought him to the vet a few times. Said that there was not a thing wrong with him," Russell replied staring at the top of the canopy bed. "So he musta realized. Musta known that people would love him if he pretended to be hurt like that. Smart dog. But I don't think humans treat each other that way. Not in this war they don't. My buddy back there…my sergeant made me leave him. All…covered. Only when we were done with the fighting did I go back. And I came to thinking…if we treated each other like we treated dogs…we would have stopped right there and saved him. Gave him a crumb or two. But we didn't. We moved on. And only after he was dead for hours did I get back to my buddy. Good help I was. I don't wanna die Melody. I don't want my parents seeing me in the body bag. Like I saw him."

Melody froze listening to his words and watched him slowly slip into delirium. "Well…well Russell…the Army does what it does for certain reasons. They are pretty stupid…but they're reasons behind it."

"I don't want them to see me. Can you…" Russell leaned up his head and pulled off his dog tags. "Can you send them to my sister? And can you walk away…pretend that I was never up here when they come to rescue you?"

"But…your body could-"

"I won't be there…I don't care what they do to me," He said right away knowing what she would say. "Do you…do you believe in the afterlife, Mel?"

Melody shivered slightly as he used her nickname. Only her father used that name. It had been too long since she heard it last. "I…" She took a deep breath. Truth was always the best way. "In a way. I kinda think everything…life death. It's one big circle."

"You believe in resurrection? Like I'll be a squid in my next life?" Russell asked struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Maybe," She giggled quietly taking his hand into hers. "If so…I hope I'm some type of sea creature. Then maybe I could get to know you better."

Russell closed his eyes. "That would be…" He fell into unconsciousness.

Two days later, the soldier moved on to his next life and left Melody alone in the abandoned General's house. The hour he passed, she carefully slipped the dog tags off and placed them in her pocket. When they found her body months later, they discovered another set of dog tags around her neck. She never got to send them to his sister.

Next tale: Matthias and Aaron


	4. Matthias and Aaron

Note: Thanks for the reviews again guys! I'm just gonna clue you guys into what I wanted to do with this series. I wanted to take the characters as they are and place them in different times. So everyone's race, ethnicity, sexuality, and sex is all gonna remain the same. I don't really want Angel to be a woman because well for one that's not who he/she is. Deep down she's a man and that's how the cookie crumbles. And if you remember, Collins is gay. So making her a woman…wouldn't work lol. Also, I'm gonna keep it down to sets of two right now. I was planning on bringing everyone together later on and I'm still thinking about it. For now, just two because it's more intimate that way. That doesn't mean that people won't pop up, like Mark did in Josephine and Ty's. I'm not including Benny in the eternal group but he probably will pop up in supporting roles. Now after that really long note…the chapter.

Maureen glanced over at Roger. The pale rocker was paler than usual. "Roger…you ok?" She asked him gently. Now she understood why Joanne was so shaken. Hearing about her former life…and the how it ended…it was more than unsettling.

Roger looked up and nodded. "Yeah…just…weird is all."

The gypsy woman grinned deeply. "Now you all see. You understand how your souls have intertwined."

"Yes…but are there any tales…that don't involve certain death?" Mark asked hopeful with his eyebrow raised. The group let out a series of nervous giggles as they were all thinking the same.

"Of course," The woman laughed along with them. "You can't blame me for telling you these tales first. I had to make you all believe…" She titled her head to the side and stared at Roger. "You do believe now. Don't you?"

Roger cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders back. Mimi patted his shoulder. "It's ok to believe in something magical every once in a while," She said kissing his cheek. Her boyfriend met her eyes and nodded.

"I suppose," He uttered.

Angel rolled her eyes. "Honey, were you one of those people who refused to clap to bring Tinkerbell back to life?"

"Angel's still clapping," Collins teased as he finally recovered from hearing his and Jo's story. Angel pinched his arm but giggled knowing it was true.

Roger looked away not willing to answer the drag queen.

"So…new happy story?" Joanne asked.

Maureen raised her brow at her girlfriend. "You believe this now too?"

"It was a big hint when I wanted to go find Melody in Belgium and kiss her," Joanne explained which resulted in the two women sharing a gentle kiss.

"Yes…yes a happy tale. Aaron and Matthias."

Spring 1871 Texas 

Matthias woke to the sound of children screaming in cruel laughter. Children will be children, he thought rolling himself further into his blankets. They were so thick that he could sometimes forget that he was sleeping on Texas soil. Little rock, bigger insects and all. Even without the blankets, Matthias would have been fine. He always was a good sleeper. Unless those voices were to wake him up.

"Children, what do you got there?" A gentle voice asked.

Matthias was intrigued but kept his eyes closed. There still was some time to sleep before the leader of the wagon train would force the bachelor awake. And Matthias was not a man who wasted time.

"A candlestick. A big one. Look!" A child's voice answered. "What's that funny thing in the middle? Looks like sum sorta star."

That was when Matthias opened his eyes in panic. He saw all of his belongings spread out around him. Some things he didn't mind people seeing. A drawing of his parents and sister by his own hand. Extra rations just in case, but the menorah in the child's hand. That he minded. Matthias jumped up and quickly thrust any object that hinted at his religion back in his knapsack. He couldn't bare to see what adult was talking to the children. Mr. Milo…he knew that the "pious Christian" would have Matthias left in the wilderness. Harris would shoot the man without any remorse. 'You dult!' He said to himself. 'This will be the death of you for sure. Father said that would be found out. That it was too much of a risk…he knew.'

"Go off an see Mrs. Harris. I think she's got some breakfast cooking." The adult said shooing the children away. Matthias paused, he was waiting for the yelling and screaming. A deep voice calling out his religion as if it were a curse. Instead, a thin young man carefully began to help Matthias gather his belongings. It took Matthias a moment to recognize him. Aaron. A Mexican at least that's what Milo called him. He was ghastly thin, alluding to the fact that he known hunger since birth. But his face was gentle and kind.

"Here…I would keep an eye on this," Aaron said quietly handing Matthias the menorah. "It's too beautiful to loose."

Matthias took the menorah and nodded unable to look the man in the eye.

"Aaron!" The wagon train master called out, "Help us prepare the horses would you?"

Aaron looked behind his shoulder, "I'll be right there." He turned and locked at Matthias. A smile spread across his face. Then the Mexican ran off as if nothing ever happened. Matthias breathed sigh of relief.

* * *

That night it was Aaron's turn to stand watch. Everything was still. The horses and oxen in the distance grazed quietly. All of the wagons were silent all of the families taking the much needed opportunity to rest. They were one the trail for month and they were starting to feel wary. All of the member of the wagon train. Aaron included. He held a cup of tea in his small hands and sipped it gingerly. When he felt a presence he snapped his head while his hand went for the gun at his hip. It was Matthias, his hands up as if Aaron was Jesse James. Aaron smiled and relaxed himself. 

"Don't go doing that," Aaron said sounding more amused than annoyed.

"I'm sorry," Matthias said sticking his hands in his pockets. Aaron passed his cup of tea which Matthias gladly took. "Thank you…that's what I came to tell you. From this morning. Thank you…I was too shocked at the time. I thought I was dead for sure." Matthias took a small gulp of the tea and handed it back.

Aaron nodded. "No one should be condemned for what God they pray too…it's fine. My pleasure really."

"You're awful…forward thinking," Matthias pointed out putting his pocket back in his hands.

Aaron shook his head. "No…I just know how it is to be persecuted for who you are," He explained leaving it at that. Matthias let his eyes wander among the camp. More than ten wagons. Most filled with God fearing Christians that never saw a person whose skin was a different pigment than theirs. Then there was their attitude towards the Mexicans. The fact that they were resting on land that two sets of people called their own told Mark how they would feel about the Mexicans. Most Americans saw them as primitives who didn't deserve the land they owned for centuries. Oddly enough, they said the same about the Indians who were slowly dying out. Yes, in this company, Aaron would know persecution.

"I am…sorry," Matthias said slowly.

Aaron shook his head and only smiled behind his tea.

"So…why are you heading west? Have family there?" Matthias asked finding himself struck and curious by this kind stranger.

"No. My family is mostly gone. A little sister married to a farmer in Ohio. I …wanted to strike out on my own," Aaron explained calmly. Matthias practically stared at him as he talked. There was something about the man….something different. Something he couldn't out his finger on. "Get a farm of my own. Maybe find someone to be with."

"You do know that unspoken for women are hard to come by in the west," Matthias replied wondering if Aaron knew what was getting himself into. Loneliness seemed to be a hazard of the new section of the country. "I've even heard about…two men living together…you understand?" He asked hiding a blush.

Aaron looked deep into his tea. "I understand…why are you going west Matthias?" He asked using the name that he was never told.

"Same…my own place. Maybe open up a small business." Matthias shrugged staring into the fire. Aaron's eyes were locked onto him without any signs of discomfort.

"I hope you get that…what about sketching? That drawing was yours wasn't it?" Aaron asked with a faint smile.

Matthias blushed automatically. "Yes…I sketched it. A passing hobby really," He said waving off the idea.

"Everyone had their talents…you shouldn't be meek about it," Aaron pointed out tossing his leftover tea into the fire.

"I suppose…and what is your talent?" Matthias asked with a teasing grin.

Aaron chuckled quietly. Then he took a deep breath, "I'm an all right tailor." They laughed together making sure to keep their voices down. A few horses raised their heads but quickly forgot the disturbance.

"If I have any clothes that need mending, I shall let you know," Matthias offered.

"I would be glad to patch them," Aaron replied his smile soon fading into a deep frown.

Matthias felt as if someone had gutted him…seeing Aaron like that. Frowning. It seemed unnatural. As if God had only given Aaron the ability to smile. To be happy. It was how the All Powerful meant him to be. And there he was…frowning.

"What? Did I say something…"

"Oh no," Aaron said quickly while watching Nathan Harris come their way, ready to take over his watch. "No…I just realized that I have a better talent."

Matthias eyed Nathan as if he was an interloper. "What?"

"I hide," Aaron said simply nodding to Matthias before heading towards a piece of ground that he could call his own for the night. Just then, Matthias understood what was different about the Mexican. He had a weight on his shoulders, but he held it with a grace and made no complaints. Grace…that was the purity of him. Grace.

"You taking my watch?" Nathan grumbled, daring Matthias to say anything different.

"Uh…I would be glad to," Matthias said quickly. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. When Nathan staggered away, Matthias grabbed his knapsack. Carefully, he pulled out a blank piece of parchment and a piece of charcoal. With the music of crickets accompanying him, Matthias started to sketch.

For the rest of the joinery, whenever Matthias or Aaron had watch duty, the other would always join them. They would talk. It was always simple conversation. Nothing too deep or philosophical. Just quiet questions that build a simple friendship. Matthias learned that Aaron wasn't Mexican at all. His family came from even farther south, but his parents, his grandparents, and his great grandparents were from the Oklahoma territory area. That made him more of an American than half of those on the wagon train. Aaron learned that Matthias was an amazing sketch artist. He even began on a portrait of his new friend but refused to show it to him until it was finished.

They lived like this for the remaining two months of the journey. Sharing nights together under the stars. When they arrived in Oregon, most of the families when on their own way without so much for a good-bye to any of the others. But Aaron and Matthias stood unsure what to do…but knowing something had to be done.

Matthias was the first to break their silence. "Don't be a stranger. I won't settle too far from here. When you're settled…come over for supper.

"I'd…I'd like that," Aaron said. He looked around the area to be sure that no eyes were on the two men. When he was satisfied, Aaron pulled Matthias into a hug. Matthias was shocked, but didn't pull away. After a few moments, Aaron sniffed and took a step back.

"I never…had a real friend. It was pleasure Matthias. I hope you find what you are looking for," Aaron replied trying to hold back the emotion that was flooding onto his face.

Matthias nodded, "You as well…like I said don't be a stranger."

The two men nodded to each other and walked in opposite directions. Then Matthias paused and called out, "And Aaron…" His friend turned around, his face gentle and kind as ever despite the pain. "Stop hiding. You may be good at it, but whatever you're hiding…it ain't worth you being sad," Matthias suggested.

Aaron smiled deeply, "Thank you," Then he turned away and walked out of Matthias' life for ten years.

* * *

Time treated Matthias well. The store that he had dreamt of was well on it's way to being the best general store in the area. His sketch collection was also growing, the encouraging words of Aaron always in his ear. Also, he managed to find himself a wife, Beatrice. He never believed in all of that romance that his mother and sister used to talk about. At least, he didn't until he meet Bea. After every day of setting up the store, he would return to their small home excited, just to see the look of her. Hear her voice. And of course, smell her cooking. 

It was no day out of the ordinary when Matthias headed home on a windy day in October. But the moment he stepped floor in his home he felt that something was different. "Beatrice?" He called out putting his hand down on the table. His slightly plump wife came out of the kitchen laughing with a deathly thin man. It took Matthias a moment to recognize him. He had grown out a thin beard and lost more weight if that was even possible. But that smile…that sense of grace was the same. "Aaron?" Matthias called out.

His old friend placed the potatoes onto the table and then quickly embraced Matthias. "Aaron! How are you? I thought you'd been lost!"

"No," Aaron pulled away his face light and happy. "It simply took me a while to get settled. I see it didn't take you long." He looked back at Beatrice who had her hands on her hips, which were now dealing with the weight of a growing child inside of her.

"Not even a good evening to your wife," She asked. Matthias laughed and moved to kiss his wife's cheek. "I was only glad to see my old friend. Who is staying for dinner I hope."

Aaron nodded. "Beatrice insisted on it. As you did many years ago."

They sat down for their meal, although, Matthias and Beatrice did more talking than eating. Matthias' excitement over seeing Aaron again flowed over as he began to describe his courtship with Beatrice, creation of his house, and his business. Aaron listened as he always did. Laughing and smiling when he should. Offering condolences at the mention of Beatrice's miscarriage the year prior. But he never uttered a word about his own life. When Anne retired the two friends were left alone.

"I'm glad for you," Aaron said suddenly, "You got all that you wanted."

Matthias nodded a thanks. "And you? You've been quiet…I know Bea and I can talk but…how are you?"

Aaron shifted in his chair and looked away. "I share a farm….with Daniel Carton."

It finally made sense as Matthias heard these words. He understood what Aaron was hiding from. Himself. That was the reason he came west. To be with another man and have the society accept it as somewhat acceptable. Matthias thought it over, what Aaron was. He knew the stance of religion on the subject. But…it was Aaron. And he loved him. No matter how he lived.

Aaron watched Matthias carefully, probably gauging his reaction. A smile spread across Matthias' face. It was much how he looked to Aaron when he religion was discovered on their journey. No, this man was his friend. He could never condemn him for how he was. "Then…you've achieved what you wanted?" Matthias asked quietly still smiling.

Aaron let out a sigh of relief. "I suppose. Yes," he answered, "I have a farm and I'm…not so alone," He admitted quietly.

"You…you don't love him?" Matthias asked feeling the hesitance in Aaron's declaration.

Aaron seemed to think for a time before answering, "I suppose not all are destined to fall in love. Though…Beatrice is wonderful. You two are in love?"

Matthias caught it. The way he tried to change the topic of conversation. Aaron didn't love Daniel Carton, but he wasn't lonely. He cleared his throat and said, "Very much."

Aaron nodded slowly. "Perhaps in another time…another life. I will find what you and Beatrice have."

"I hope so…" Matthias said quietly. "If so…I would like to meet that man," He watched his friend's face overflow with gratitude. Gratitude that shook him.

"I should return. We have harvesting to start in the morning," Aaron said quickly standing from the table.

Matthias stood as well. "I hope all goes well."

"Thank you…thank Beatrice for supper. Good night, Matthias." Aaron tipped his hat and opened the door.

"Wait!" Matthias called out. He disappeared for a moment into the bedroom and returned with a sole piece of parchment. "Here…it took me ages to finish. I apologize." He handed it to Aaron.

The man's face softened. It was the portrait that Matthias started on their long journey. Aaron recognized his younger face. He pulled Matthias into a quick hug and then walked out of the cabin. Matthias stood in the doorway and called out, "Don't be a stranger."

Aaron simply waved and made his way back towards the harvest moon.

* * *

"And did he? Come back, I mean." Mark asked the woman quietly.

Angel smiled through her emotions when the gypsy woman said, "Once every month. Until the end of their days." The group clapped glad to hear a happy tale. Mark turned to look at Collins and Angel.

"Hey Collins," He said quietly.

Collins smiled deeply. "Hey Mark." He kissed Angel gently who was trying not to cry.

Next tale: Madeline and Roland


	5. Madeline and Roland

Note: Thanks so much for the love the last chapter! I was worried that people wouldn't like that Angel, but I think that in that situation that's where he would be. As for this chapter I stole shamelessly from "Vanity Fair." At least the idea. An amazing flick if you ever get the chance. Oh by the by, I know not everyone is happy with the way I'm working this (i.e. sex, ethnicity, etc.) but that's just the way I've had it set so I don't wanna change it. Feel free to write your own stuff in that way. I'd be sure to read it. Now onto the next chappie.

Mimi grinned at Angel who was cuddling as close to Collins as their bodies would allow. She turned to look at Roger who was smiling gently. "You do believe this now don't you? I'm proud, baby." She said kissing his cheek.

Roger cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well. That's great and all. But it couldn't have happened to all of us. Like you haven't been in any of the tales yet. Maybe you were a later edition." He said with a shrug.

The gypsy woman shook her head. "No. No. I just have not gotten to her yet. You are all so impatient. Young people. Yet I should have known from your stories and auras. All of you are impatient. Rebellious. Getting yourselves into trouble."

"That's us," Maureen said proudly.

"Why don't you tell us a Mimi story then?" Angel asked knowing that it wasn't so fair that Mimi be left out of the fun. "And preferably a happy one." She added. "If gotta listen to another one about Mo and my man not making it through…I might feel a little queasy."

The woman nodded. "Don't fear, Angel. I have just the tale for you and your friend. It is the first of the romances."

"Oh I can't wait til ours!" Collins called out excitedly tightening his hold on Angel.

"Impatience," The woman sighed. "Yes…Madeline and Roland. They are next."

Spring 1778 Massachusetts

"Mother, this is ridiculous!" Roland groaned as Nicolette put the last finishing touches on his hair. A light blue ribbon to hold back his shoulder length blonde hair. It took the hairdresser and his mother almost an hour to decide to leave aside the powdered wig for his natural hair. It might not have been as dignified, but they didn't want him to appear too old.

Roland's mother, Paulina, sighed, "Darling, all young gentlemen go through the same tradition. You are no different. Now stand still. Belinda has to repair the stitching on your sleeves." She pulled his arm up roughly from his side as the other maid came to fix the few stray strings on his cuffs.

Roland closed his eyes, "Yes, perhaps in your day but things have changed, mother. We're in America now, not in England. Most young men choose their wives now. They aren't chosen for them like prized ponies. Ow!"

Belinda bowed an apology. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to prick you…please try to stand still."

"You're all on her side aren't you?" Roland asked Belinda and Nicolette. The two maids kept their mouths shut and their eyes downcast.

"Oh dear God, Roland. Stop behaving like a moody child. You will meet Miss Marlios and if the negotiations go as planned, you will marry her. Her father owns," Roland mouthed the words as his mother said, "Half of the sugar plantations below the colonies-"

"Mother, I am quite aware of her father's influence and wealth, but that does not mean I want to marry a total stranger." He pulled his arm from Belinda with a slight glare.

Paulina put her hands on her hips. "If you don't marry this girl our estate shall experience total ruin. Thrown out of our own home. You will marry her for the family."

Belinda rethreaded her needle and murmured to Roland, "I've heard she is quite a beauty. Exotic looking…but beautiful."

"Well lucky me," Roland said sarcasm dripping from his words. "Ow! Belinda, do you mean to bleed me dry before I meet this girl?" The servant girl tried not to smile and bowed to both Roland and Paulina. Then in a shuffle of giggles the girl left the room with Nicolette by her side.

Paulina sighed. "Servants…I will never understand them." She stood and looked up and down at her son as if she was inspecting a solider for battle. "Yes…you do look stately enough. Though I believe that we should have used the powdered wig."

"Please Mother," Roland mumbled, "I am marrying a stranger…at least allow me the pleasure of not sneezing all night. You know how the powder itches my nose." His mother opened her mouth to argue when the butler walked in.

"Announcing Miss Madeline Marlios," The butler announced bowing as gentle clicks of a woman's shoes were heard just outside of the door. Paulina quickly checked the status of her hair and dress. Her son heard her mutter that she hadn't had enough time to properly prepare herself. Roland sucked in breath, praying to God that the girl was at least somewhat attractive. And a good voice…not those young ladies that sounded more like donkeys than sound birds. If he was really going to be forced to marry this woman, he should at least like the look and sound of her.

Madeline seemed to float into the room. Her head held up high in confidence, not in superiority. Roland investigated her thoroughly. Her skin tone was a darker one than he was ever used to seeing, apart from his great uncle's slaves. But, the man couldn't help but see its beauty. The color of a warm tan. Her dress was pale beige that accentuated her beautiful skin tone as well as her dark brown eyes. Around her delicate neck, she wore a pearl necklace, which was a status symbol. Her father could afford such accessories and preferred to display that fact. Her visage pleased Roland; he cleared his throat realizing just how much he enjoyed it.

'What are you doing?' He asked himself. 'You're supposed to be rebelling. Not…following along. With any luck she will be melancholy and have a horrible voice.' Roland bowed to the girl along with his mother's curtsy.

"Please to meet you, Miss Marlios. I am Lady Delorin. And may I introduce my son, Roland Delorin," Paulina replied as she gracefully motioned towards him.

Madeline smiled deeply, her whole face was covered in the genuine smile. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Delorin," She said sweetly curtsying in front of him.

'Nope, her voice is wonderful.' He was running out of reasons to dislike the girl. But there was still hope. Perhaps she was dull witted. "A pleasure," Roland mimicked reaching for Madeline's hand and kissing it gently. Her gloves were made out of an exquisite silk. However, it wasn't the glove that impressed Roland it was the pure warmth underneath it.

Paulina let out a nervous giggle, "I must see how the servants are faring with the meal. I hope that the two of you will take this time to get to know one another," She said smiling and nodding continuously until she left the room leaving the two young people alone.

Roland cleared his throat and kept a suspicious eye on Madeline. The young woman watched her hostess leave, then she turned back to Roland showing him that same smile. 'And her smile isn't so off either,' He said to himself.

"Perhaps we should sit?" Madeline asked noticing that Roland missed his duty to offer her a place to rest her weary feet.

"Oh…oh yes. We should," Roland guided her towards the furniture and the two sat on opposite sofas. 'Maybe if I ignore her…she'll…get bored of me and beg her father not to have us marry,' He decided while his simple nature asked what was wrong with the girl. She was beautiful, had a wonderful voice, and a sublime smile. What more could Roland want?

Madeline shifted in the silence and looked around the room. "This is a lovely room," She observed with a slow nod. "Is that your father in the portrait?"

"Yes, he passed on last year," Roland said with no real sound of remorse. The relationship with his father was not a discussion that was considered suitable for first meetings. Or any meetings for that matter.

"You both look similar," Madeline noticed raising her hand to point to his eyes. "Same green eyes."

Roland raised his brows. She noticed his eyes this early on…and managed to commit them to memory? He cleared his throat and reshifted his body on the sofa. "Have we…have we meet before?" Roland asked wondering if she had studied his features before this day.

"Not officially," Madeline said with that smile. "But I have seen you."

"And…where did you see me?" Roland questioned trying to rack his memory. He should have remembered her.

Luckily, Madeline did not seem very offended by his lack of memory. "I saw you at a dance a few months back. Major and Lady Pitt's ball. I hoped that you would ask me to dance, but you were too busy sulking by the punch. I believe that you may have offended more than one lady who caught your eye."

Roland nodded finally remembering the dance. The Pitts were an intolerable couple that only had balls to listen to the gossip of the young ladies and young men. Another family that still believed that they were in England under the king's command instead of their own. "I see. I am not a very acceptable dancer. My feet are never where they should be."

"That is a sad excuse," Madeline said brazenly with no show of embarrassment. "I've danced with gentlemen that only step on my feet. I am sure that you could have managed."

Roland frowned. Was this girl serious? She had no look of real crestfallen look to her face, or even anger. It was as if she was stating a fact. He knew that he had ruffled more than a few feathers at the latest Pitt dance. Women had even scoffed at him and told their mothers that Roland would never find himself a bride if he never danced with any suitable ladies. "I beg to differ Miss Marlios-"

"Madeline," She said automatically. "Sometimes I feel all the need for formality is quite dreadful. We are not talking to our elders. Only our peers. Why is there a need for such a formality? Especially if we are to one day share a bed."

"Pardon…pardon me…" Roland managed to utter despite his shock. He had never heard a woman speak so…candidly without fear of reprisal.

Madeline sighed and started to wave her fan towards her face, the summer heat gripping her through all of her layers. "I refuse to believe that you are not aware of my father's and your uncle's intention. Why your mother just happened to check on the servants who never need a checking. I think it is silly to pretend that I am here on a simple visit."

Roland stared wide-eyed at the woman. "I…I do suppose that you are correct."

"Good," Madeline brushed down her dress and raised her eyes to meet Roland's when she dropped her fan. "And what are your feelings on the subject?"

"Hmm?" Roland mumbled as his thoughts had wandered off again. 'If you had your choice you would choose this girl wouldn't you? At least she would always keep you on your toes.'

The woman sighed perhaps wondering if they would always have one-sided conversations. "How do you feel about marriage? And specifically marrying me."

"Well…I do believe that marriage is a worthy practice."

"Worthy, indeed."

"However, I believe that the two people who are…joined should have some sort of…affection for one another," Roland explained as a faint hint of red slipped into his cheeks. He realize how hard it would be to say that he didn't want to marry a stranger…at least to that stranger.

Madeline nodded, he could see that she was in deep thought. She replied, "I agree. But I do wonder, if there is a need for affection in a marriage, then where does that lead you and I? I am not sure that love can be created on such a short notice."

"Most young women do believe in such things," Roland responded instinctively.

"I am not like most women," Madeline said smiling deeply.

An identical smile spread across Roland's own face. "No, I suppose you are not."

"Then, Mr. Delorin, where does that lead us?" The woman asked again this time Roland knew that she would take no substitutes.

'What in the world does she expect me to say? We're entering an arranged marriage not a political caucus. There was no reason for an official title or status explanation. I believe that this woman may be the death of me.' Roland looked at Madeline closely again taking in all of her beauty. And he knew quite well now that she had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue. Most men would have been disgusted by her brashness. But Roland was not like most men.

"I suppose that that would lead us at the beginning, Madeline. And we shall see where the path leads us," Roland explained a part of him relieved to give in to the thought of marrying this woman. There could be good times…as well as the bad that he expected. And there could be affection. In fact, he was pretty sure that an affection was growing for her inside of him already.

Madeline seemed satisfied with this notion and answered, "I hope that it will be a good journey."

"I as well," Roland said with a simple smile.

* * *

It had been three months since Roland last saw Madeline. Their families were in deep negotiations, and the future couple had been separated. When Roland was alone he would replay every moment of that day in his head over and over. Her angelic entrance. Her pure thoughts and brave words. Her beautiful voice. Her delicate features. Yes, that affection that Roland believed was growing was now in full bloom. All the young man wanted to do was to marry the exotic beauty. He could only hope that she had a similar eagerness. All that he had to go on was the words of her father. Roland had over heard him say to his mother that his daughter seemed to be flustered and entranced by her son. Although it may have been a lie, Roland wanted to believe it. Had to believe it.

He raised his bow up to meet the strings of his violin. It was one of the few things in the world that offered him solace. A time to stop thinking about the worries of his life and simply enjoy music. It had saved him through his father's anger spouts and his father's death. It would also help him through his nervousness concerning Madeline.

Paulina slowly entered to room her feet dragging behind her. "Roland…Roland darling," She said quietly.

Roland looked over to his mother but continued on playing. "What is it? Have the plans gone through?" He asked hopefully as he his heart seemed to pause for her answer.

"It is odd, how you were so against the idea of marrying Miss Marlios…and now…" Paulina sat on a sofa and rubbed her temples.

"Mother…" Roland dropped his violin to his side. "What is it? You have a headache…something is wrong…" He knew what was wrong before she even said a word. 'What am I going to do? Maybe I could go to her father. No that would be considered undignified…'

Paulina sighed deeply and nodded. "Mr. Marlios has declined our offer for the last time. I am sorry, Roland. I know that you had a fancy for the girl. But it will pass," She decided, standing up to hold her son's shoulders in her hands. "We shall find a better bride for you. One with more riches, more beauty, and more talents."

"But…mother…I don't want anyone else," Roland said hurt coming through his voice. "Only her."

"Oh, my dear boy. You think it is love. You only know real love after years of marriage," Paulina explained cupping Roland's face in her hand. He jerked back from her touch and shook his head.

"How?" He uttered, "How could you and father ever find love? He was horrible man."

Paulina gasped placing her hand on her heart, "How dare you say such a thing about the man that fathered you into this world? He was a kind hearted soul-"

"He hit you!" Roland called out not worrying who heard him anymore. "And the servants. Even me. No…he was not a kind hearted soul. He had a soul of black. And I told myself the day that he died that I would not follow in his footsteps. And I will not. I will marry the woman that I love and cherish her instead of ruining her. And when we have children, I will love them no matter what they are or believe. And I will never hurt those I employ. Do you even remember Ephrem? Lying there dead because he burnt Father's dinner?"

His mother was so taken aback that she furiously fanned herself and fell into the sofa. "I told you never to say his name again," She said between gasps of breaths.

"You always called me a rebellious and ungrateful child mother…and I do suppose that is true," Roland said reluctantly, "But I am grateful for one thing. You introduced me to a woman I love. And that is something that I can not forget nor ignore. I can not find another woman when I know whom it is that I am meant to be with. It is as if I know her soul, mother. As if I've known her before. And I will not pass that by. If she will have me I will marry her."

"She would never marry you without the permission of her father!" Paulina pointed out. "It is just not done!"

Roland thought for a moment and then smiled. "She is not like most women, Mother. I believe she would follow her heart and marry me if she can stand the look of me."

Paulina stared at her son in awe. "Are you…what are your plans?"

He walked over to his violin and placed it firmly under his arm. "I'm to follow my heart. Try not to be too ashamed of me…" Roland replied before rushing out of the house and away from his family forever.

"The plans…they fell through didn't they, Madame?" A servant quietly asked Madeline as she combed her hair for her.

The woman closed her eyes slowly. "They did. It is a shame…I…I think I could have loved him. Even if I…was forced to be with him. Yes, I believe I could have loved him. I have an affection…had. Had an affection. But I cannot be withering away and wasting my time pining over a man. I will find my true husband. A true love. Perhaps, Roland was not for me."

The servant nodded and placed the comb on her mistresses' vanity. "I've heard that your father has been speaking with an Earl. Can you believe an actual Earl from England here? Perhaps you will marry a prince! Or even a king!"

Madeline laughed turning to face the girl. "Then you could fit me into all of those fancy dresses."

"Could I really, Madame? I would love nothing more to even look upon those dresses."

"Of course. And please, Lianna, call me Madeline-" The woman jumped at the sound of a rock hitting the window pain. "What on earth…" Madeline slowly tip toed through her room and to the window. Then she saw him. Roland was down in the garden a violin in his arms. She had to smile at the sight. Apparently, she was not the only person who was upset by the failings of their parents' plans.

She opened the window and nodded to the servant girl to leave her in peace. When the door closed, Madeline looked down at Roland and called out, "What are you doing here Mr. Delorin?"

"I am…I am here to…well…" Roland cleared his throat. "I am…regretfully sorry for the failings of the negotiations."

"I as well," Madeline admitted. "I enjoyed your household. And I was even planning what I could change when it would one day be mine."

Roland frowned. "You only cared for the manor?"

Madeline let out a string of giggles. "And another thing. I do regret the loss of that. That of which I suppose I never really had."

"And what might that be?"

"The piano in your mother's parlor." The two laughed together, Roland now realizing that she was only teasing him. In her eyes, even from such a distance, he could tell that she missed him. And that she wanted to be with him. Her eyes told a story it seemed. A story that he wanted to be a part of.

Roland looked down at the violin in his hand. "I brought you something. At least…I wrote you something. Would you like to hear it?"

The woman nodded slowly while trying to contain her simple joy of seeing Roland again. "I would very much like to hear."

The violin was positioned under Roland's chin and he played a simple but romantic melody. Madeline imagined the work that this man put into the song. The hours that he wrote, pouring his heart onto paper. She could hear the longing in each note, as well as the giddiness. It was a perfect melody for their love. Yes, she was in love.

"Did…did you like it?" Roland asked her as he finished the song.

Madeline pushed away a few tears forming in her eyes. "Roland…would you run away with me?"

"Wha…." Roland cleared his throat. "I was going to ask you that."

She let out a long and healthy laugh. "Then ask me."

"Madeline…will you run away with me?" Roland asked a smile on his face already knowing her answer. She did offer the question in the first place after all.

"A thousand times, yes," She replied in response.

A day later, they were married in a small chapel, their personal servants served as witnesses. And while they knew that they would not have the fame nor the fortune that they were born into, they knew that together, they could survive it all.

Next Chapter: Maggie and Judith


	6. Maggie and Judith

Note: Thanks once again for all of the love. I wanna share something with you guys. When I started to think about this story, I came up with a lot of pairings and when they should meet up. But I never thought about the times crossing over…so yeah. I'm taking artistic license with pretty much all of the other chapters from now on. Also, sorry I've been missing lately, most of my time has been taken away due to a new role-play I started. It's actually a High School AU version of RENT. If you have any interest the link is in my profile, all of the canons are taken, but we'd love love love more oc's. Thanks guys!

Winter 1918 Washington D.C.

"My gentle readers, this day is a momentous one. I, Maggie Soloman, have entered a new era. You may be familiar with my work in the 'gossip' column. Keeping all of the capital up to date on the latest news when it comes to stars, starlets, the wealthy, and of course the politicians that run amok in this grand city. And while I will miss my first column, I am going to welcome this new step forward with open arms.

"Yes, gentle reader, I, Maggie Soloman now writes a weekly news article for your favorite paper, The Washington Star. And not only is this a wonderful day for an up and coming journalist like myself, but it is also a momentous day for the Star. For, I am their first full-time news reporter that is of the female sex. Since this occasion is such a progression for women everywhere, it seemed only right that my first story should revolve around the women who are fighting for the right to vote. Here with me, is the lovely Judith Jermaine."

Judith blinked repeatedly at the woman sitting across from her. She was told that Maggie Soloman's form of journalism was…different. She was never told it was bordering on insanity. "Do you always…talk out your articles before you write them?"

Maggie giggled while taking off her tan hat to reveal her scandalously short hair. "Sets the mood for the interview. Well…this actually is my first ever interview. Usually I buy information off of chefs and butlers and coiffeurs and that type. But it seems like a good enough way to me." She pulled her writing pad closer to herself while carefully avoiding the glass of wine set on the table.

The interviewee seemed less certain of Maggie's tactics. She thought this would be a simple dinner with a simple journalist who only wanted to know the who, what, when, where, and why. However, this was turning out to be more complicated.

"So. Miss Jermaine, tell me why you think it's important for women to have the vote," Maggie sat with her pen at the ready.

Judith straightened her back and cleared her voice. "Well…as a woman yourself, I think that it would be understood. It is because that we are half of the population of these United States. And despite what many men seem to believe, we are just as capable of thinking and reasoning."

Maggie nodded biting the corner of her lip and writing away. "What would you say to those men who believe women to be inferior?"

"I would tell them to look where they have their own proof. There are examples of strong women in the Bible. And throughout history as well," Maggie's pen moved at full speed while Judith continued to talk vividly. "Abigail Adams. Our founders, Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. I could go on for hours simply listing the women that are influential."

The journalist smiled to herself. "You seem awful passionate."

"Well, of course I am. I am a smart woman who knows that we deserve the right to vote. In fact, I am a member of humanity who knows that I must try and help humanity in general. Women are a part of humanity just as men. And we should be considered just as equal as men…wait are you listening to me?" Judith asked since Maggie was quickly downing her glass of wine.

She waved her hand when she put down the glass and nodded with filled cheeks. "Of course. You just said that part already."

'You should have never done this. Obviously, she's just a stupid woman who wants to prove that she's more than just a gossip columnist. Just look at her. She looks more like a fashion plate…like a flapper than a serious woman.' Judith said to herself as she carefully inspected the woman across from her. The dress she wore was a party dress that didn't dare hint of professionalism. In fact, it showed her calf and a hint of a garter belt. Judith knew what her mother would say about such a woman. She crossed her legs and waited for another question.

"Ok, so do you think that the leaders of today like Alice Paul and Lucy Burns will be remembered in the future?" Maggie asked before she started to bite at the end of her pen. It wasn't exactly becoming in Judith's opinion. And she held back a request to act a little bit more…civilized at the table.

Judith rearranged the napkin on her lap. "I would like to believe so. They've done so much for some women…" There was a bitterness in her voice, a bitterness that Maggie picked up on quickly.

"Don't you have a high opinion of Miss Burns and Paul?" She asked tilting her head to the side. 'That damn pen is still in her mouth,' Judith said to herself, watching it bob up and down between the journalists full lips.

"I…I do admire their efforts. And I mean that in the best possible way. And I would like to leave it at that thank you," Judith looked up as the waiter gave Maggie her plate. Some type of sandwich with plenty of mayonnaise.

Maggie looked down at her food but then glanced up at the waiter. "And where is Miss Jermaine's food?"

The waiter bowed to Maggie. "Excuse me, miss. It's on its way. I just thought it would be best to bring your food out the moment it was finished. In case that you were hungry."

She picked up the plate, pen still in her mouth, "I think I can manage. Hold it until Miss Jermaine's is done, too." The waiter looked at the plate with big eyes but didn't dare to argue with her. He quickly took it and rushed into the kitchen.

"That…"Judith started to say, "That wasn't necessary."

"Sure it was. I'm rude but not that rude," Maggie snorted finally taking the pen to paper. "So Miss Burns and Miss Paul aren't all they crack up to be?"

"Oh no," Judith shook her head. "They are assets to our campaign. That is obvious."

Maggie nodded and finally took away the pen to write a few scribbles. "But you still wish that they would change some of their…policies? Which ones would they be? Any specifics?"

"A while back, women from our office attempted to join both of the women in a parade. But they refused us. I would like to believe that all women, have the right to vote. Not just some," Judith explained simply. She looked down at her lap and cringed at her chosen outfit. A pale green jacket and matching gaucho pants. They were a statement all right. Anyone who saw her in such an outfit would know that she was a suffragette. But she wished that she could have chosen something less drab…Maggie looked so much nicer than she did.

Maggie finished her writing a few notes and set the pen aside. "Fair enough-"

"Now both meals are finished, Miss." The waiter broke in, first serving Maggie and then Judith. "Is everything satisfactory, Miss Soloman?"

"Everything is good with me. Why don't you ask Miss Jermaine? Maybe her steak has turned green," Maggie said shooing the waiter to the opposite side of the table. This seemed to be a horrible idea to the waiter. But Judith knew that the man who owned this restaurant was in with the Star. They had to please all of journalists. Including ones like Maggie.

The waiter grit his teeth as he asked, "Is everything fine with you?"

Maggie raised her eyeline as if she was actually interested in Judith's food. "Oh…oh yes. It's fine. Thank you."

"Very good," With that, the waiter ran off.

Judith smiled to herself. "I haven't ever been asked if my food was well cooked."

"It's overrated," Maggie said with a wink. "I prefer to stick my leg out and trip them if there is a problem. Now back to our interview. What is your greatest hopes for the movement that you're involved with?"

"My greatest dreams?" Judith asked as she watched Maggie slurp up her sandwich with pen in hand. "I suppose, that all women have equal rights as men. Same opportunities in the work place. Same rights politically. Same rights to their children as their husbands if not more."

"Do you have children, Miss Jermaine?" Maggie asked suddenly.

Judith blinked and then whispered, "I'm sorry Miss Soloman, but I don't know what that has to do with this interview…"

"Trust me. It'll all work out in the end. Do you?"

"No…no I don't. Nor a husband."

A smile spread across Maggie's face. She licked her lips free of ketchup and said quietly, "I didn't ask if you had a husband."

"Oh…well I thought that would be your next question," Judith explained. She carefully cut her steak and delicately placed the meat into her mouth.

"Why don't you let me do the interviewing Miss Jermain and you-"

"Maggie!" A loud masculine voice called out. Judith raised her head to see a man in an impeccable suit coming their way. 'Perhaps that is Maggie's husband…' She told herself while a feeling of emptiness formed at the bottom of her stomach.

"Mr. Holland. I'm glad you could make it. This is Miss Jermaine, the subject for my article on the suffragette movement," Maggie explained motioning towards Judith. Mr. Holland was one of the most powerful men in Washing D.C. He was the head editor of the Washington Star and every story went past his desk for approval. He could make or break careers, and apparently, he had decided to make Maggie's career.

Judith dabbed her mouth with her napkin and then held out her hand for the man. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Holland."

But the well-dressed man only looked at the hand that offered to him. "Maggie…is this a joke?" He asked her looking back at his writer.

Maggie's face flushed. "No…no Mr. Holland. Miss Jermaine is an accomplished suffragette-"

"Who is a Negro," Mr. Holland snapped. "Our readers might be able to sympathize with white wealthy women from good homes who have the idea that they are worthy to men…but not…not this woman. Scrap the story, Maggie. Find someone better or scrap the story."

Judith's eyes dropped down to the floor. She knew it was too good to be true. To get some real publicity for her organization. It didn't run with Alice Paul and Lucy Burns'. Although they offered support, the Southern women with Burns and Paul simply wouldn't allow blacks to walk beside them towards justice. Alice Paul said that they couldn't loose the support of Southerners. Support…it was something nonexistent in Judith's life. She made her own way, fighting for what she thought was right and putting all ideas of a home life out of her mind. Although she would fancy a person every so often, society hated her enough as it was…that was evident with Mr. Holland's words. So she threw herself into her work and ignored what most women wanted. And what she wanted deep down inside of her.

The newspaper editor walked away in a huff and Maggie turned to Judith. "Don't you worry, pookie. I got enough for a great story. And believe me…it's going to be published. And it's not gonna be whitewashed," She said with a deep sense of determination. With that attitude, Judith couldn't help but believe her.

Before she could offer a word of thanks, the journalist uttered a quick goodbye, left a blank check signed, and ran after boss calling his name as she went. Judith looked down at her steak. For some reason she didn't feel very hungry anymore.

* * *

"Judith! Judith, honey, look!" Lenore called out running into Judith's office with a newspaper in her hand. "Look. The article. That woman…she got it published. Can you believe it? She must have done something to change that man's mind. Cause look!" The secretary dropped it on Judith's desk and pointed to the article headline.

"EQUAL RIGHTS FOR EQUAL PEOPLE"

Lenore pulled back and wrung her hands excitedly. "I read it all, Judith. She didn't whitewash it. Didn't make it all about our color...well she mentioned it but she didn't make that the focus. She just wrote an article about us. And it's so supportive…you must read-"

"Thank you, Lenore. I will read this on my own. You can go," Judith said cooly. When she was alone, Judith sat back in her chair and started to read the article. She relished every word as it had the quirkiness and vigor that Maggie had herself. And Lenore wasn't exaggerating for once. It was a glowing column. Her opinions on Burns and Paul were explained intelligently and calmly. This was just what they needed to get more members, get recognized as a legitimate group, and perhaps gain acceptance from the likes of Alice Paul and Lucy Burns.

"It's a dream," Judith whispered. Then she read the last line out loud, "And as Miss Jermaine remarked, we all have a responsibility to our humanity to help all of our brothers and sisters. We should applaud Miss Jermaine and all of the women, whether they have dark or light skinned, that have the courage to speak for humanity."

"You like the last line, huh?"

Judith looked up to see Maggie leaning in the doorway of her office. She was wearing a deep red lipstick, which almost matched her maroon party dress. Once again, the length managed to show a hint of her garter. Lenore looked over her shoulder like an excited fan of an artist. "Lenore…could you please give Miss Soloman and I time alone?"

"Oh…oh of course," Lenore said practically shutting the door on Maggie's backside.

"She's an excitable little thing isn't she?" Maggie asked rubbing her rump gently.

Judith stood up and picked up the paper. "Yes well…there seems to be a good reason why. Your article…it's…amazing. You're writing is-"

"Second rate," Maggie said quickly with a shrug. She started to wander around Judith's office picking up any trinket that she could find. Smell it, feel it, drop it. "At least that is what I have been told. And frankly, I believe it. Writing isn't my first profession."

"And…what was your first profession?" Judith asked leaning on her desk and crossing her arms.

"I was an actress. Then I married my producer. Then we divorced. Then I married my director. Divorced him. Almost had the notion to fall for my best friend…but then he dropped a little bomb on me…so I saved myself one divorce. Divorce is my second profession," Maggie said putting up two fingers to visualize her comment.

Judith cleared her throat. Maggie was getting closer, now studying what was on her desk. An engraved letter opener. A glass paper weight. A picture of Judith's parents. "Excuse me…I don't mean to be rude…but why are you…doing what you're doing? Research for another story?"

"Oh no, not for a story," Maggie said shaking her head as she carefully put down the picture frame. "Aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask…ask what?" Judith questioned rubbing her arm. There seemed to be a chill in the room.

Maggie giggled quietly to herself. "What type of bomb my best friend dropped on me. It would be the polite thing to do. I did set you up for it, you should follow through."

Judith decided to bite. "All right then. What type of bomb did he drop on you…" The journalist was now leaning on Judith's desk as well. Their elbows were touching. The tiny hairs on Judith's arms raised quickly.

Maggie smirked. "He doesn't like girls."

"What?" Judith asked quickly a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "I didn't think that those type of things were talked about…not in good company."

"Then I suppose I'm not good company," The woman challenged her bright red lips expanding into a deep smile. Judith raised her brow and then had to laugh in response. The journalist soon joined her laughter and waved her hand in front of her face. Her alabaster skin was turning a slight pink color.

"So do you?" Maggie asked gently.

Judith blinked and tried desperately to ignore Maggie's bare leg that was inching towards hers. "Do…do I what?"

"For being an interviewee you're not so good with answering and asking questions are you?" Maggie asked with a sense of annoyance in her voice.

The suffragette knew exactly what she was talking about. At least she thought she did. The thought of misinterpreting her words, the woman would die of embarrassment. But Maggie's leg was getting closer and closer. Maybe she wasn't jumping to conclusions. "Do I like girls?"

Maggie smiled, no doubt glad that she didn't have to beat around the bush for another ten minutes. "That was the one I was wondering about. Do you not like the look of men?" She asked their legs finally meeting.

Judith gulped and hoped that she wasn't trembling like she thought she was. "Well…it seems very clear that you do. All of those husbands."

"Oh…I married them for less than noble reasons," Maggie explained her shoulder leaning in to meet Judith's.

Then it hit her. Judith backed away from Maggie as if she was diseased. Her mouth open and wide. It took her a few moment to control her thoughts and say, "Is that…is that why you wrote this article? Was it for those less than noble reasons?"

Maggie shook her head furiously and ran to take Judith's hand. "Not at all! I would say…that this was my most noble article yet. Which sadly doesn't say much considering I only did gossip before hand. But I wanted to write this article, Judith. I wanted to write about women who were making a difference instead of being the arm candy that they always were in my previous column…" She paused to look down her hand which still held Judith's. The latter woman hadn't pulled away; in fact, she was listening carefully with hope in her eyes.

The journalist continues, "I found you because I was interested in your work. I wrote the article because I was interested in your work. But I'm here because I'm interested in you…"

"You barely know me," Judith said quietly averting her eyes. This could never turn out right. A woman with another woman? She had always dreamed of it, but never thought it could actually happen. Not to her. Not when she was so busy with her work.

Maggie didn't back down. "True…but at the same time…I do know you…the way you eat steak. Like if it touches your lips you'd burst. The way you accept but don't accept racism at the same time…just what you do. The way you looked shocked at my outfits but never say a word. I knew the moment I saw you…like I've seen you before."

Something clicked in Judith's head. It was the same way for her. It was as if a force that was stronger than herself was drawing her to Maggie. "We haven't meant before have we?" She asked quietly, her left hand coming to join Maggie's and her right.

Maggie smiled deeply. "You feel it too? Maybe…maybe another life…but I would like to know about this one," She whispered leaning closer to Judith.

"Yes…me, too." Judith meet Maggie's lips half way, and their shared their first kiss.

* * *

Joanne bit her lip and then asked, "Did she? I mean…did I take the chance?"

"Did I divorce her, too?" Maureen asked slightly louder as if the old woman wouldn't hear or understand her partner.

She laughed happily. "No…no…that story has a happy ending. They lived happily …though scandalously together. Until they no longer drew breath."

Next tale:….You'll see. Well if you can follow the pattern you probably know what RENT people are next. (wink) Their counterparts will be featured in the next two chapters, for a reason that you'll understand when you start reading the next chapter.


	7. Ty and Anton

Note: Thanks for the reviews as always guys. If you haven't read the first story (chapter 2) you might wanna for this one. (wink) Without further ado…

"Ok, we have to be next," Angel called out crossing her legs demurely. But all of her friends knew there would be hell to pay if Angel and Collins weren't next.

The woman laughed good naturally. "Of course. However…it is long and hard. And complicated. Are you up for it?"

Collins gulped and nodded. "Yeah I mean…ain't life always hard and complicated?" Angel kissed his cheek in agreement.

Their friends glanced over at them slightly worried. They didn't want their hearts to be broken by unhappy news of their past lives. Mimi started to speak up but paused when Roger patted her hand. They were all jumping to conclusions. Maybe things ended up all right.

Mark looked up at the woman, "What were their names?"

She smiled. "Ty and Anton."

Summer 1833 Virginia

Ty slowly made his way towards the mansion. His spine was slightly bent in pain causing the way to feel more like a journey then a simple visit. Even though he survived the disappearance of his wife and two children, the scars on his back were the consequence. Every night, he would ask another man or woman to put the lotion on his back that the doctor gave him. It would calm the pain and maybe even start to heal the marled skin. But Ty was more often than not, refused. Although Dr. Grey allowed him to survive, Ty was still under heavy watch and scrutiny. His master was just waiting for Ty's broken body to break under the pressure. But as long as Ty could manage, he wouldn't give the man the satisfaction.

"Ty! Ty! Did you hear?" Dr. Grey's little girl asked, still as boisterous and annoying as ever.

"I can't say that I have, little one," Ty said quietly. The look of all children stirred up thousands of feelings in him. Reminders of his own children specifically. He was glad that his children were now safe and free with their Mama. But he regretted the fact that they were growing up without their father.

Bridget grinned. "I was soooo surprised! Even Daddy looked surprised. I think you'll be surprised too!"

Ty raised his brow but then decided to ignore the girl. There was no need to prod her if he was going to figure out what was going on in only a few moments. Then fear gripped him. Did they find Josephine? He knew that with the Fugitive Slave Law…if she wasn't hidden properly she could be returned. The babies as well…just to be pulled apart. Ty held his breath as he walked into Dr. Grey's office. Although he never believed in God, he said a silent prayer under his breath.

A thin and delicate man looked over his shoulder. The stranger gave Ty a genuine smile.

Ty's eyes widened in confusion. "You called for me, master?" He said quietly looking down at the ground before him.

"Yes, I did indeed," Dr. Grey said exuberantly. "I've got some great news for you. You have been sold to this gentleman. At a very good price I might add."

"I…I have?" Ty asked glancing over at the small man next to him.

Dr. Grey stood up and nodded. "While you were in the fields, I had the women gather your things." He motioned towards a pack that was sitting in the corner of the room. "I hope that you will treat Mister Salizar better than you did me. Your new master is aware of your past problems…and yet he still purchased you. You should be grateful."

"I…I am," Ty muttered. There was a time when he would open his mouth. Argue, do anything he could to make Dr. Grey feel like a lesser man. But now that his wife and children ran to the North, Ty didn't dare to push Grey. He worried that if he did, his master would increase the men who were already searching for Josephine. Ty couldn't take the chance.

"Thank you for the…business, Dr. Grey," The thin man said. His first words were gentle and calm.

Ty followed Mr. Salizar out towards the horse drawn carriage that was waiting for them. As he did so, Ty found himself sizing up the new man that he would call master. His size and stance was something curious. Most men in powerful stations who were small tended to make up for their size in aggressiveness and fury. But in the few moments that Ty knew him, he could say with confidence that there was not a furious bone in the man's body.

"Head on up," Mr. Salizar said motioning towards the wagon. Ty nodded and slowly pulled himself up onto the seat. As he heard his bones groan from the strain, Ty had to wonder if Mr. Salizar knew exactly what he was getting himself into. Despite all of his experience, Ty's body had had enough after the last whipping. He still worked in the fields, but he worked slower and produced less. Physical labor was going to be out of the question in a few years time.

Mr. Salizar leaped up to the wagon and took hold of the reigns. With a simple clicking of his tongue, the horses started to slowly move away from the Grey Mansion. Ty looked back at it, not to get sentimental, but to say good riddance. It didn't matter where he was going, it had to be better than the Greys'. The place where he found so much, and lost so much all at the same time.

"Ty," The man whispered. The slave looked over cautiously as he was curious of his lowered voice. But then he understood. Mr. Salizar pealed an envelope slowly out of his side pocket and handed it to him.

"What…" He started to say until he saw the note on the paper. 'Don't speak of this until you are off the property.' His heart skipped a beat. It was her handwriting. Ty's head started to spin. She was alive. Josephine was alive and most likely living well. She had time to write him something didn't she? Maybe there would be news about the twins. Would they be walking yet? Saying Mama? Or wondering where Dada was?

Tears formed in his eyes while wondering about all of the possibilities. Then it dawned on him. This man...what type of slave owner would give their "property" a message from his wife when she was a runaway? He had to be…someone else than he said.

"Who…who are you?" Ty questioned under his breath.

Mr. Salizar smiled gently. "A friend. We're off…you can read it now." He looked over his shoulder and nodded to himself. "We're safe. For the moment."

Ty ripped open the envelope and read quickly. When he finished reading it, he read it again, this time with more understanding. The letter read:

My Dear Ty,

Just the thought of seeing you again has filled my heart with joy. The moment that I left the plantation. I thought for sure that you would be killed. However, fate has smiled upon me and allowed you life. I cannot wait until the day we are reunited, all of us. Molly grows quickly, her head is still in the clouds. Isaac is even more of a handful now than he was as an infant due to his new discovery of crawling. Though they know not the words how to say, they miss you. I know they do. As do I.

My life here is a grand one. I live on my own terms, as my own woman. That feeling of freedom is as amazing as you said it would be. I am living in a city with a group of our friends. They consist of two couples and an additional male and female. The man that you ride with now is that male. In all my life I have never meet a more gentle, giving soul. I know you are in good hands. The woman has become a close companion of mine and I know that the two of you will get along fine. All of them are abolitionists and artists. I admire and love them all. They watch the twins while I work. That is another generosity they have given me. I work at a sewing shop and am paid for it. It is a dream. The only aspect missing of that my best friend and father of my children. I hope you a swift and safe journey home to the twins and me. We'll be waiting patiently for you.

All my love, Josephine

When Ty finished reading it the second time, he read it again. The man beside him stayed silent, only watching the road ahead. After Ty's fifth read, he turned to Mr. Salizar.

"Mr. Salizar, I love Josephine…she likes to talk around things. How…how am I seeing her again? How is all of this happening?" Ty asked his voice shaking. In the darkest part of his mind, he worried that this was all a cruel joke.

The man smiled slowly. "For one…my name isn't Salizar. It's Anton," He held out his hand to Ty for him to shake. Ty stared at the hand for a moment, in shock.

"I…" He closed his mouth and shook Anton's hand. "So…you're not my master?"

"Not at all. The money that I gave Grey was forged. It usually takes the bank three days to notice the difference, if they ever do. But we have to err on the side of caution. If we have been found out, we can't take the chance. We'll ride for another hour or so, then we'll change and then ride on, until we reach our first destination," Anton explained to Ty.

Ty gulped and then got the courage to ask, "You…you're saving me aren't you? Bringing me to freedom?"

"Oh, I didn't do this all on my own, hun," Anton said shaking his head enthusiastically. "A friend had to make the money. Friends had to help with the clothes we're gonna use. Friends had to help with the horses…friends in the Grey's house even."

"What do you mean?" Ty asked. Due to the reaction of all of the other slaves after his numerous whippings, he never thought that any one of them had any thought of running away.

Anton looked over at Ty. His brown eyes meeting another pair of brown. "Would you believe me if I told you that we were actually contacted by Mistress Adelaide Grey?"

"Adel?" Ty asked with shock. The older sister of Bridget has always been a quiet girl. But he thought that she was just like all other southern bells; submissive, unthinking, and unfeeling.

"That is the girl, yes. She was very distressed about the whole situation with you and your wife," Anton said snapping the reigns slightly, which caused the horses to move quicker. "She talked through contacts…and found us. Offered us help. And she did."

Ty sighed deeply. "I misjudged her."

"We all misjudge at times," Anton said quietly. "Just as long as we are able to get beyond that…and learn from it. That is all that matters."

"My wife…had nothing but good words to say about you."

Anton grinned deeply and let out a quiet laugh. It caught Ty off guard. The laugh. It seemed too beautiful to come from a human being. It was the laugh of an angel. "Your wife is too kind. And I know that she likes me solely because I manage to calm down Isaac."

Ty's face fell. "Isaac…you've seen my children...how are they?"

"Molly is beautiful. Already a full head of hair. She was fascinated by a puppy one day…I think she'll be an animal lover. And Isaac…he's busy. Crawling, crying, chewing. Josephine always calls out your name when she is frustrated with him. I believe she blames you…which I think is a silly notion," Anton admitted with that laugh again.

Ty shook off the shiver that moved down his spine. "Josephine always believed that she had nothing to do with Isaac and he was solely my child. I think that she likes to forget how difficult she can be at times."

Anton smiled deeply and nodded. "But a pleasure. She is a nice woman. Your wife."

"Yes, my wife," He replied looking down at his hands. "What…what did you mean when you said that we would change?" The man sitting next to him only grinned.

"Yes, I said. And we will." Anton slowly raised his arm to point out an inn.

Ty looked at himself in a cracked mirror. His stained breeches and tunic were discarded for a pair of well made pants along with a white shirt and a faux velvet vest. It was the type of clothes that he had seen overseers wear. Never a man of his status. Never. And yet, Ty couldn't help but enjoy it.

"Are you decent?" Anton's voice asked through the inn door.

"I _am_," Ty said with a satisfied nod.

Anton giggled through the door. "I'm sure you are…now just…brace yourself." The door slowly opened to reveal Anton in his disguise. It took Ty a few moments to completely understand who was in front of him. One thing was for sure, it was Anton. Ty was starting to think that he couldn't forget Anton's eyes for anything. But instead of his "master" clothes, he was dressed in a fancy woman's dress. A wig with black curls lay on his head as if it was his true hair. And small trinkets were wrapped around his fingers and wrist naturally. Even powder and pastes colored his face as a woman's face would be. Ty was startled, in more ways than one.

"You look…my."

"Is that a good my or a bad my?" Anton asked biting the corner of his lip.

Ty looked up at the person in front of him. After all that he had done for him…even if he was a horrible looking woman, Ty wouldn't have said it. Luckily, Ty thought that Anton was beautiful. "Good…very good. You'll fool…everyone."

Anton smiled deeply and clapped his hands. "Mallory and I worked on it for hours. Of course, Minnie had to add a few of her own ideas….which we quietly ignored." He giggled at the memory and was surprised to hear Ty giggle with her. It was a nervous laughter. "I'm…I'm sorry…I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh no, Anton…I'm not. Believe me…I'm not," Ty said standing up and facing Anton.

A slight blush rushed along Anton's face. "I'm glad. It would be too much effort for it to go to waste. The clothes and such I mean. Not that…if you didn't approve…you'd have to live with it."

"I suppose I would," Ty said nodding slowly. "If it means getting back to my children and Josephine…I would do anything. Even follow a magical crocodile."

Anton laughed, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "A magical crocodile? She always said that you were imaginative…" He paused for a moment and then nodded to Ty. "We should be off." The former slave nodded in agreement and followed Anton out of the inn. Luckily, there weren't many patrons who could gawk at the man who turned into a gorgeous woman in only a few minutes.

Ty rushed to help Anton up into the carriage. The smaller man paused for a minute until Ty said, "If we're going to sell the fact that you are…what you seem…"

"Oh, yes. Thank you…Harold," Anton said in a fluttery voice as he hoisted himself up with the help of Ty.

"Harold?" Ty asked sitting next to him.

Anton smirked. "Would you prefer Algie?"

"Harold is fine," He said biting back a smile while he grabbed the reigns. With Anton's click, the horses started off again. Townspeople seemed to fall for the farce. The men would tip their hats at Anton. Some of them would even venture a whistle or a goofy stare of affection. And the women would scan Anton's dress and then either turn up their noses in disapproval or smile in admiration. They were so focused on the beauty of Anton, that Ty only got a few glances from the passerbys. And most of them probably were because they were wondering whom Anton was traveling with. A servant. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. It was working.

"So you love her then?" Anton asked without any warning. His higher pitched voice that he used to greet strangers suddenly turned lower.

Ty blinked and then replied hesitantly, "Yes. I do. She is my wife," He whispered quietly assuming that was who Anton was alluding to.

"Not all married men love their wives…or visa versa," Anton pointed out while waving to a little girl who clapped seeing the fancy dress.

Ty watched Anton's seemingly lack of interest and nodded. "I know…but I do love her. Josephine…in her letter said that you were alone. I mean…not with anyone." Where did that come from? He asked himself. There seemed to be no real origin for that comment…at least that's what he told himself.

Anton didn't seem shaken by the question. He turned to face Ty and replied, "She was right in one way, wrong in another. I am currently with no one…but I'm a widower."

"Oh…I'm…your loss-"

Anton cut him off, waving his hand. "No…no need. I was married when I was fifteen. She died a year later. Sixteen years old…she couldn't stand the sight of me even when we were so young."

"You haven't remarried?" Ty asked licking his lips.

The abolitionist shook his head. "I left that world I was in before. Followed a friend…and I love the life I lead now. It may be dangerous…or seen as off…but I do love it." Then he moved back towards the streets and waved to a man who blew Anton a kiss. "Hello dear."

Ty couldn't help but fell a slight twinge of jealously. But he tried to ignore the feeling and added quietly, "Then you have a right to keep on living it…I do love Josephine…but only as a friend."

"A friend?" Anton asked suddenly interested. "But you had the twins…"

"Yes, it was expected of us. If we refused than we would have been punished. It…wasn't the worst thing. But it was only in the name of what needed to be done. I've never had…intimate feelings for Josephine. Or any other woman," Ty explained. When he finished, he snapped the reigns harder to make their horses pick up the pace.

Ty felt Anton's eyes on him for a time, but refused to look at him. He was afraid of what he would find.

"Here we are…" Anton announced as he pushed open the door to their room for the night.

Ty paused and stared at the sole large bed that lay in the middle of the room. It was quite normal for two men to share a bed. Nothing out of the normal. Ty knew that…he'd shared a bed with other men until he was "married" to Josephine. But…now…

"I know it's not very glamorous…but not much in our life is," Anton said coming over to place his hand on Ty's back.

Ty winced and bolted away from Anton's hand as if it burned him. "Wha…what did I do?"

"My back…" Ty hissed, his spine quickly curling under the pain.

Anton's eyes went wide. "Ty…Ty I'm so sorry. Isn't there…don't you have a cream or something? Here, why don't you go lie down?" Ty didn't argue. He collapsed on the bed and automatically peeled off his shirt before thinking.

"Mi Dios," Anton whispered in reaction to his back. "How…how did you survive?"

"I barely did," Ty managed to mutter. "The cream is in my pack."

Anton nodded and ran to get the balm. He sat down next to Ty still in his dress. "Do I use a lot? Or a little?"

"Enough."

"Ok then…" Anton gently rubbed the balm onto Ty's ruined back. At first, the man grunted between the pain and the cold of the substance. But Anton soon used less pressure and warmed the balm in his hands before applying it. "Your whole back?"

Ty's eyelids were dropping. It was the first time since the origin of the marks. The first time he got the care he was supposed to get every day. "Please…"

"Of course," Anton replied without a sense of hesitation. His hands ran across Ty's worn back. Ty wasn't sure if it was just the relief of pain or the feel of the man's hands, but he imagined that heaven would be something like this. It was one of the few moments in his life where he felt totally at ease and protected. "Better?" Anton asked pulling away his hands.

"Yes…thank you. Thank you for everything," Ty whispered pulling himself up so he could offer Anton more room in the bed.

Anton shook his head and gently pushed Ty back down on his untouched shoulder. "Stay there. I'll fit in fine. Rest your weary bones." Then he moved away, washing his hands and peeling off the dress. Ty wanted to desperately keep his eyes open and…watch. But he closed them in the name of maintaining some sort of courtesy.

Anton's body slipped in along side Ty's and feel asleep almost instantly. Ty on the other hand, stayed awake all night. Watching and studying his savior.

Next Tale: Part 2 of Ty and Anton


	8. Ty and Anton Part 2

Note: Thanks so much for all of your reviews. I really do feel beyond loved. And I'm glad that you liked the doubling up. This probably won't be the last time I do that. While I have your attention, both of my rps are looking for canons. If you have any interest see my profile. Now here's part two. A shout out to "Gangs of New York" is also in order.

By the time Anton woke up, Ty was already changed, clean, and ready to continue their journey. The former slave was gazing out the window with a look of wonder and excitement on his face. Smiling gently, Anton raised himself from the bed. "What are you looking at?" He asked him in as whisper as he didn't want to startle the other man.

Ty was less then startled. It seemed as if he knew that Anton was awake all along. "The sunrise," He replied not taking his eyes off the sight. "I've…I've always found it beautiful but I was always too busy…knowing that there was work to be done. A day of hard labor ahead. I never got the chance to…really watch. To appreciate it. It's beautiful."

The smile on Anton's face deepened. Josephine always told Anton that Ty was thoughtful and his passion was infectious. But…she failed to mention the gravity of him. The way that he was so gentle and strong at the same time. Even though he was wounded, his sprit was intact. All that he had gone through, he had never been destroyed.

"You make it sound wonderful," Anton replied slipping out of bed and looking over Ty's shoulder. "You were right…maybe it's just today. Exceptionally beautiful." Ty raised his gaze to land on Anton.

Their eyes met and Ty whispered, "One of the things-"

"Be out by breakfast," The low and gravely voice snapped through the door therefore breaking the moment. The innkeeper.

Ty cleared his throat and nodded. "We should get on the move."

"We should," Anton said quietly. "There's a long road ahead. And more than likely, Dr. Grey will go to his banker friends today. We can't take our time anymore. Not unless we want to be caught."

"How many times have you done this before?" Ty asked quietly as Anton moved away to pull on the dress that he wore the day before.

He shrugged on the dress as if he had done so many times before. "Four times. First was Edwidge. A young lady whose husband had ran away and wanted her to be with him. Second was Bartholomew. He was a nice man…at times. Without much time he grew attached to us. And he visits, I'm sure you'll meet him. Then there was the two brothers. Ethan and Jonathan. They did not make it. Not to frighten you," Anton said holding out his hand as he reached for his wig with the other hand. "They were not patient. And my attire…well they were not very…understanding. They decided to go on their own. And they were captured. I managed to get away. Thankfully, I'm a fast runner."

Ty leaned against the door. "I…can't imagine anyone being uncomfortable with you."

Anton was glad that he was looking away at the time, or else his blush would have been quite easy to see. This man, he was easily Anton's favorite of those he saved. And it wasn't due to his relationship with Josephine and the twins. A relationship which was precious to him.

"I…I won't be able to continue this for much longer. As it is, I used to dress as a common woman. With a washerwoman's garb. That woman is already wanted, the police put threads together after Bartholomew's escape. We had to create a new dress…this will probably be my last run," Anton explained eager to change the subject. It wasn't his place to even…think what he was thinking. Ty was married. And it was obvious that he loved her and his children. Something that made Anton like Ty even more. It almost seemed unavoidable.

Ty picked up their bags. "That's a pity. Your disguise is impressive."

"Impressive?" Anton asked with a quiet laugh. "You are married to Josephine aren't you? For a former slave she is very well spoken. As are you. But yes, it is a good disguise. I will miss it." He admitted as he ran his fingers through the wig.

"Miss it?" Ty questioned.

"Yes well…sometimes I just…enjoy…"Anton paused and then shook his head. "It is silly. I shouldn't say it."

Ty crossed his arms and then stared at his companion. "You saved my life, Anton. It's only fair that I listen to you. And there is nothing that you could say that would be silly."

Closing his eyes, Anton begged himself not to fall in love with this man. His previous experiences with love never ended right. It was as if his dead wife was making sure that he was cursed. "I…I just feel more comfortable in these disguises than I do my normal clothes. The trousers and shirts. I prefer these. It is a silly thing, but I suppose comfort doesn't mean that it should be," He explained refusing to meet Ty's eyes. This was the way to end it. Ty would be disgusted and that would be it. His charming and calm disposition would turn sour. That was be the end of it. It was nice to dream…if only for a few short moments.

"Oh…" Ty said quietly. "And it's not silly. Everyone wears a disguise in some way don't they? Sometimes…the disguise is a lie…but sometimes it's true."

"BREAKFAST!" The innkeeper yelled making the two men jump.

Anton held back a slight laugh and whispered. "We should probably get breakfast before the innkeeper comes in here himself."

Ty nodded to him and then opened the door. He motioned for Anton to go before him. The smile on Anton's face grew. "Thank…thank you," He mumbled shuffling out of the room with his luggage in his hand.

"You're welcome."

* * *

After breakfast, the two set off again. This time around Anton was determined to make more ground. He told himself that he wanted to go faster in case Dr. Grey found the money to be counterfeit. But he knew there was another reason. If he spent more time with Ty on his own…he felt that he could say something idiotic. Do something he would regret. In order to prevent this, Anton kept his mouth shut not even greeting the passerbys, just in case his mind wandered off. Ty matched Anton's silence as it wouldn't have been "right" for a slave of a well to do woman to speak to her without being spoken to. So they sat in silence for most of the days journey. 

It was only when sunset came that Anton couldn't hold his tongue any longer. He heard Mallory in his head commenting that Anton couldn't keep quiet for more than a few moments. Well, he proved her wrong, now he could speak…he wouldn't say anything that would be…provoking. He just had to make sure that Ty knew what was going on. "Ty…"

"Hmm?" Ty mumbled looking at Anton as if he was a mute who somehow found his voice.

The smaller man cleared his throat and replied quietly, "You read…in the note. How Josephine is close with one of the women didn't you?"

"Oh yes. She mentioned that she had a close friend," Ty nodded slowly. "I'm glad that she found someone that she could be close to…why?"

"Well…" Anton pulled out a fan from his bag and waved it front of his face with a simple flick of his wrist. "Her name is Minnie. The woman who she is close to." His companion looked over at him with a confused look on his face. Anton sighed internally. There was no way to say this nicely. It just had to be said. "I feel as if I should tell you…that they are not friends."

"They're not friends?" Ty asked. "Then…what are they…?"

"Not…specifically. They…" Anton felt a pain in his gut. Why was he saying this? To save Ty the shock? Or to let him know that he was…available? Either way, he had to know. "They're together."

Ty watched Anton. "Do you mean that they are…"

"They're in love," Anton whispered trying to gauge Ty's look. He was ready for pain, jealously, or anything in between. But, Ty seemed to just be lost. Then suddenly, his face lit up. "Are…are you all right?"

"I am," Ty said with a slow nod. "I'm glad. She deserves to be loved. I didn't know…that…two women could be together like that. But…I suppose anything is possible."

Anton licked his lips and whispered, "You aren't hurt then?"

"Me?" Ty shook his head. "It's a shock. That I will admit. But like I said yesterday, I love her only as a friend. If she found someone who loves her more than that, then that is wonderful. It is. She must have a wonderful life now…" He smiled to himself and then asked suddenly, "Minnie…is she good with Isaac and Molly?"

Anton nodded. "She is very good with them. Molly loves to play with her hair. And Isaac likes to terrorize her. As he does to his mother and all of the rest of us."

"The rest of you? What is everyone like?" Ty asked as he was probably interested in the life he would soon lead.

Anton glanced around to make sure that they were safe enough to discuss this. The only people that were in the town were merchants and buyers fighting for food. They would be fine. "Well…" Anton started lowering his voice just in case. "There is Minnie. She was an actress in the underground theatre. She still tried to perform, but it is dangerous at times. One time she was almost murdered when a show went badly. Then there is Matthew. You have meet him already."

Ty smiled. "The man who helped Josephine and the twins?"

"Yes that is him," Anton nodded slowly. "And then his wife Bella. She is from France of all places. She barely knew English…and we found her one day about to be struck by her employer for not understanding him. Matthew saved her and they have been together ever since. Then there is Matthew's friend Robert. He is a nice man, a musician. Then his wife, my friend, Mallory. Her story is not as pleasant as the others. So I will leave that for another time."

"And my son has managed to terrorize all of you?" Ty asked his small smile growing.

Anton laughed quietly. "Yes…he's quite a gifted young man."

"All but you though? Right?" Ty questioned watching Anton completely and ignoring the road in front of him.

"I…" A blush rushed over Anton's face. He continued to fan his face, as if he was hot instead of embarrassed. "He does listen to me. And he'll only fall asleep if I put him down. I'm not sure why it is. But yes, he behaves with me."

"They must be missing you dreadfully then," Ty pointed out. Anton laughed heartily, and soon Ty joined in on the laughter.

"Hey you! Miss!" A foreign voice called out. The two men snapped back into their roles. Anton sat up straighter and put on feminine airs. Ty let his shoulders slouch and he dropped his eyes to the ground. The man who spoke walked over to the carriage. "You seen this man?" He asked holding out a wanted poster.

Anton took the poster and studied it carefully. It was a flawed drawing of himself. With a wave of his fan, he passed the poster back to the man. "I don't know the man. And what is his crime? So I may keep a wary eye of such a character."

"He stole a slave. Offered his rightful owner fake money for him," The man explained spitting afterwards to show his contempt. Then he paused and muttered, "Pardon me, madam."

"I certainly hope that you do," Anton said with an upturned nose. Ty bit back a smile as Anton continued, "As for your wanted man, I will make sure to do my part. The loss of slaves is a horror. Such an injustice."

The man nodded crossing his arms. "Ain't it? It's those people in the north. Those so called abolitionists. Don't they know the bible wants us to have slaves?"

"Yes, and one should always pay attention to the bible. My family personally slaughters animals in honor of our Lord on a regular basis. We all should be more strict to the holy word," Anton said waving himself faster with the fan.

The man seemed a bit bothered by the mention of slaughtered animals but then mumbled, "Yes…well I'll let you be on your way. Thank you ma'am."

"You are very welcome, my fellow." Anton waved demurely and patted Ty's knee. The former slave snapped the reigns and made the horses break out into a run. Anton let out a squeal and held onto Ty's shoulder. "I didn't mean that fast!"

Ty pulled back on the reigns but the horses seemed to enjoy their fast pace. "They won't stop!"

Anton looked over his shoulder to see the man they talked to point towards the carriage and shouting. "Go faster…"

"Faster?" Ty asked grabbing his hat before the wind took it. "Are you mad!?"

"I suppose," Anton said ripping the reigns from Ty's hands and snapping them even harder accompanied with his whistle. The horses ran even faster.

"Anton…" Ty whispered his eyes growing wider.

"What?" Anton asked almost out of breath.

"You lost your wig…" Ty pointed out.

Anton swore under his breath and ran his hand over his head. The wig was indeed gone. He risked a quick glance behind himself to see the black curls crumpled up in the dirt. "And that was my favorite!"

"They're coming!" Ty called out. "Can you make these things go faster?"

"Wait…I got an idea," Anton yelled over the commotion. "Jump!"

Ty raised his brow and laughed to himself. "Jump? Are you thinking what I'm thinking that you're thinking."

"Yes I am, c'mon, Ty. Jump!" Anton took Ty's hand. The former slave didn't seem too crazy about the idea. "It'll be fine, I promise. We'll be ok." Anton said looking deeply into Ty's eyes.

"Ok…if you say so," Ty whispered. The two stood up and jumped from the carriage, which continued down the road. Anton rolled into a bush and Ty stumbled managing to catch himself. "Are you ok?" He asked out of breath as he hid behind the bush with Anton.

"I ruined the dress…" Anton muttered looking at the dress which was now covered in dirt and ripped.

Ty let out a quiet laugh. "I'm sure we can buy you a new one, one day." They watched the men on horses rush after the carriage, unaware that they would find it empty.

When Anton was satisfied, he took Ty's hand. "It's only a few miles to the next inn. We can walk. I know a back way."

* * *

Anton slipped off the ruined dress when they were showed to their room. "It's a pity. I'll have to continue the trip in normal clothes. No self-respecting woman would wear this. They would know." He tossed the dress onto a spare chair and inspected his body for cuts and bruises. 

Carefully, Ty pulled off his shirt revealing that his back was bleeding. "No wonder it was hurting," He muttered looking at it with the help of a crude mirror. Anton caught the sight in the mirror and frowned deeply.

"We never should have jumped," He said quietly. "I forgot about your back…"

Ty waved his hand. "It's been worse. Much worse…are you wounded?" He asked averting his eyes from Anton's half naked body.

Anton watched Ty for a moment wondering why he was looking away. Was it because he was shy? Or because he…wanted to give Anton's privacy? Or did he really want to look? "No…only a few small cuts. Nothing to worry over…I'll see to your back if you like."

"If you could…" Ty said quietly as he lay down on his stomach.

"Of course," Anton said quietly. He immersed a cloth in their jug of water and sat down next to his friend. Then he gently placed it on Ty's back. The man didn't make a noise of protest, even though Anton knew it must have been very painful. When the cloth was soaked in his blood, Anton placed it aside. "Better?"

Ty pulled himself up slowly to lean on one of his elbows. "Yes."

Anton watched him. Just took in the look of him. How his chest looked without a shirt. How his face looked like when he was at ease. How his hands cradled his head. How his legs were draped on the rest of the bed. How his eyes glowed. Anton gulped when he saw that Ty seemed to be doing the same thing to him. When they caught one anothers gaze, they both looked away.

"I'm sorry," Anton whispered. "That was…rude of me."

Ty licked his lips. "Anton…" He whispered so quietly that Anton had to strain to hear him, "Can…can two…two men be together? Like…Josephine…and Minnie. Can…they?"

A hesitant smile spread across Anton's face. He was just curious. Didn't mean anything. "Yes," He said simply watching Ty's face for a reaction.

"Oh…" Ty gulped and looked down at his feet. After a few moments of silence, Ty continued, "Would…would you…be mad if…I…if…I"

Anton sighed deeply and then threw his hands up in the air, "Would you kiss me already?" That was it. He held back enough.

Ty laughed quietly and then nodded. "Gladly." He leaned over to cup Anton's face and press his lips delicately to his. The younger man's head started to spin. It was more than just a kiss, he could feel that. Ty was offering him everything. Not just his lips. Not just his body. But everything. When they parted, Anton kept his eyes closed. "Is this what…love is supposed to feel like?" Ty asked which made Anton open his eyes.

He grinned warmly and then whispered, "I certainly think so…" Anton kissed Ty this time, more urgency behind their contact. All through the night, Anton showed Ty how to love him. And how to be the love of his life.

* * *

"Welcome home," Anton whispered four days later as they walked up to an abandoned factory. The building was in great disrepair but nothing seemed more beautiful. It was a home. And it was the home where he would live with Josephine, his children, and Anton. 

Ty looked over at Anton and kissed him quickly, not caring what the people around him thought.

"Oh my, Anton. You found yourself more than Josephine's husband didn't you?" A woman asked with an infectious laugh. She was standing by the man who had helped Josephine escape, his plump wife, and a tall blonde man who was carrying a basket.

Anton blushed slightly but didn't seem to mind it. "Hello Mallory. Robert. Bella and I believe you remember Matthew. This is Ty everyone," He explained with a few gestures to the group that was gathered.

"Hello," Ty waved to them. "I've heard a lot about you all."

"Oh no," Mallory sighed putting her hand on her tanned face. "Ignore him. He has delusions."

"Robert is that you? Did you get the lettuce that I asked you to…" Josephine started to say when she walked out of the building. She paused when she saw him, her eyes starting to tear up immediately. In her arms, a fidgety Isaac tried to wiggle out of his mother's grasp. "Ty?" She asked with a small sob.

Anton smiled deeply as he watched Ty embrace Josephine and then take Issac into his arms. "I've heard that you've been giving your Ma troubles. That's not very good of you." Isaac stared at his father with a confused look on his face. Then Ty blew raspberries at him. Isaac was swayed. The baby let out a high pitched laugh and reached out to touch Ty's nose.

The group gathered laughed and clapped. They were finally home.

Josephine leaned back to call for Minnie. The young woman with brown curls came out with Molly in her arms. The baby girl was sucking on her thumb and staring up at the sky. Ty let out a quiet laugh seeing her. "Still has her eyes to the sky..."

Anton walked over to take Isaac from him. Ty nodded a thanks and took Molly into his arms. "Hi Minnie," He said to the woman with a warm smile. Minnie took Josephine's hand as the latter woman was crying freely. "There's my girl…" Ty whispered to Molly. She seemed to be studying her father. Looking over his features. Then when he reached her approval, she took her thumb out of her mouth and held it out to show him. Ty kissed her tiny thumb.

"I'm so glad you're home," Josephine whispered. "So glad."

Ty glanced back at Anton who was holding back his own tears while Isaac rested his head on Anton's shoulder. "Me too."

Next Tale: Randall and Micah


	9. Randall and Micah

Note: Thanks so much for the love for the Angel and Collins chapter. I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna return to that group at some point. Just not sure when. This next cycle is the best friends. Sorry it took a bit, I had finals and, frankly, I had all of the bff stories in my head except Mark and Roger's haha. So it took some time. This chapter borrows heavily from MASH. If you haven't seen it, see it. Tv show or movie. You need to see it. This is also on the dark side, so if you have a weak stomach be careful.

Spring 1952 South Korea

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION PLEASE. INCOMING WOUNDED. ALL ABLE BODIED PERSONEL TO THE COMPOUND," A familiar voice orated over the camp loudspeaker.

"You're fucking kidding me," Randall grumbled. His hand was currently down a nurse's shirt. The war always seemed to have the worst timing. It was bad enough that there was no real reason why they were in the godforsaken country of Korea. It was senseless. And the people back home didn't even call it a war. They called it a "police action." The war should have at least had the dignity to wait until Randall was done feeling up Nurse Addie.

Addie pushed his hand away and started to quickly button up her blouse. "I doubt this is a joke, Randall."

"I would argue this whole thing is a joke," Randall said slowly standing up and brushing off his shirt. "So…do I look presentable enough?"

"Oh yeah, you look great," Addie said rolling her eyes and pushing her red hair behind her ears. "Can you please stop worrying about your looks for once and worry about the damn wounded. That's why we're here remember?" She rushed out of her tent to do her part.

Randall took one last glance at himself in the mirror. What exactly was he doing here? He wasn't a doctor. He barely could stand in the operating room without puking. But here he was anyway. Across the world, sweating like a pig and being barked at by doctors. And all he wanted to do was avoid going to college.

"Darrel! Get out here!" A voice called.

"Damn," He mumbled under his breath, he was spotted. There was no way he could hide now. With a sigh, he walked out of the tent. All of the air rushed out of his lungs when he saw the sight before him. The entire campground was covered with wounded. Some of them screaming as the blood seeped from their bodies. Some staring out into nothingness and asking nurses where they were. And then there were those that were silent. Those were the ones that Randall feared the most.

The doctors tried to yell over the screams. They needed the people like Randall to hear them. To prep the dying boys for surgery. Just so they could tell their families that they tried. They tried to save their son's life. "Randall!" Dr. Pierce called out. "Get over here! Take this kid in ok? You, too, Mac!"

Randall ran to the kid that Dr. Pierce was pointing to. "Oh…" He muttered as he reached the soldier's side. The kid was breathing heavily and scratching at his chest which was bleeding. The glasses on his face were bent askew. The look of his face would have almost been comical, if you didn't get a chance see his chest that is.

"C'mon," Mac grumbled grabbing the one side of the kid's stretcher.

Randall took hold of the other side and they carefully brought the kid into Pre-op. As the doors flopped shut behind them, the kid wiggled. "No…no I can't. I left my…my camera back there. I dropped it. Let me go back for it," He asked with desperation in his voice. He reached out to Randall, his hand covered in his own blood. "I promise, I won't fall again! I just need to get my camera."

Mac had left the kid the moment they got him on a gurney. The man wasn't much for emotions and had apparently decided that Randall would have to finish the job. Tell the kid to calm down. The kid that was about to die. Usually Randall was the one pulling that, leaving them as they cried. It wasn't that he was heartless. He simply knew that every face of every kid that he ever hauled in the pre-op and then into body bag would haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn't need to know the soul behind the faces.

But he had no choice.

"Hey…hey you just…we'll get your camera later, ok?" Randall said quietly. "First, you gotta let the docs fix you up." What is this kid even doing with a camera anyway? He asked himself. It wasn't like he was on some sort of vacation was it?

The kid shook his head. "No…no I need it now. I can't…I have to have those pictu-" He groaned and let out a cry as his wound caught up with him.

Randall grabbed his hands. "You gotta calm down ok…calm down…" His eyes scanned the kid for his dog tags. He found them. But they were now painted red. "Uh…Micah. Micah you gotta calm down or you'll hurt yourself more. The camera can wait."

"You don't understand," Micah cried, the dirt on his face being cleaned away by his tears. "I need it. I have to have it."

"Is that kid ready yet, Rand?" Dr. Pierce's voice called.

"Almost!" Randall said going about his routine, pretending that Micah was unconscious as many of them usually were. He carefully pealed off Micah's shirt and was surprised to find no objection.

The young solider shook his head as Randall took of his glasses. "I…I can't see without them."

"You won't need to see a thing," Randall reminded him wondering if Micah would ever see clearly again. Or see at all again. "You don't worry about that camera of yours all right? You just worry about getting all fixed." He draped a sheet across Micah's body and rolled him into the Operating room.

Micah closed his eyes for a moment. "Am I gonna die?"

"I…" Randall hesitated. The doctors always had something to say to that question. Some said that they would try their best. Some would even crack a joke. But Randall didn't know what to say. He didn't have the experience with all of this. It only was his third month in Korea. "I…I can promise you one thing…I'll go look for your camera. Okay?"

A sense of calm covered Micah's face. "Okay. Thank you. I need it."

"And you also need a clean chest," Dr. Pierce replied nodding to the nurse to put him under. "Randall here will work on whatever you need. Right?"

"Right." Randall backed away out of the operating room. He paused at the door to watch Dr. Pierce cut into the kid's chest. Without warning, his stomach churned. Luckily, he made it outside of the tent before he vomited.

* * *

"A camera? How the hell am I supposed to find a camera in all of Korea?" Randall asked Dr. Pierce in their "local" tent bar. They had the best gin in the world there. Sure, it was made with the help of surgical gloves, but it did the trick. "I mean…how? Should I just go up and ask the North Koreans if they've gotten into photography lately?" 

Dr. Pierce shrugged. It was his fifteen-minute break. Then he would have to return to the wounded. At least all of the serious cases were finished with, all that was left was broken bones. Of course, this was 24 hours later. He deserved at least one short break. "You promised him, you're gonna find it. I did all the hard work of saving that kid, you're gonna find that camera. Or you could always finish surgery for me."

Randall let out one unamused laugh. "Oh yeah right. That makes all sorts of sense. I'll just puke on them every time."

"If you have anymore of these…wonderful concoctions," The doctor said pointing to the martini in Randall's hand. "Then your puke might work be a good sterilizer."

A slight smile spread across his face. "That would be interesting…but really, man. You want me to go out into the jungle and find his camera? You really think that Colonel Jenkins will really go for that? Or will I be shot for deserting?"

Dr. Pierce waved his hand. "Don't worry about Gil. He's too busy shaking up with Nurse Diana to even pay attention. He was flirting with her over a body today."

Randall rolled his eyes. Their superior was less than savory at times, but he was stickler for rules. "That's true…I don't wanna get shot, Doc."

He shrugged. "Really? Cause you know I'd fix you up. You know I'm the best in the biz….and anyway…Gil couldn't yell at you then. He'd have to give you a Purple Heart."

With a sigh, Randall nodded. "Okay, okay, I'll do it. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna do it but I will…." He paused remembering how desperate the kid was to get his camera back. "I just hope that he doesn't have vacation pictures on it or something. Either he's got nudie pictures on there or UFOs. Those are the only things which are acceptable."

Dr. Pierce laughed heartily and patted the man's shoulder. "It don't matter what is it Randall. The kid wants it. And he had a bullet in the chest. We owe it to him," He pointed out then standing up and heading out of the tent.

"Hey Doc…" Pierce paused and nodded. "Is he up? Awake I mean?"

"Not yet. You got a few hours," The doctor explained before leaving the tent. A few hours for all of Korea. Oh yeah, that was gonna be simple.

* * *

Micah opened his eyes slowly. They focused on the form sitting next to his bed. He recognized him. The man who told him he would find his camera. It was silly really. How could he ever find his camera? As much as he needed…it was impossible. 

"Hi there," Randall said sitting on the edge of his chair. "You woke up just in time. Guess what I got you?" He held out his arms to show the kid a scratched but still intact camera.

"You…you didn't!" Micah jumped up into the sitting position without a thought and cried out in response.

Randall reached out and guided the solider back into his bed. "Don't over due it, Mike. You just got opened up, remember?"

"No…I don't," Micah admitted when he was lying down again. "Can…can I see it?"

"Yeah, it's not in the best of shape, but…I think it has to be yours. It was the only camera that I found. And I doubt that they're commonplace around here," Randall said handing over the camera carefully to Micah who held it as if it was a child. "So…why do you have a camera over here anyways? You a reporter or something?"

Micah stared down at his camera and didn't answer Randall for a moment or two. It was as if he was getting reacquainted with the machine in his lap. "No…not exactly."

"Then…what? You just got pictures of your girlfriend in there or something?" Randall asked really hoping that that wasn't the case. He would see the girl in a few days anyway. After getting a bullet in the chest, he was given a ticket back home.

"Um…I don't mean to be rude…what's your name?" Micah asked completely avoiding the question. "I mean…you got me my camera back. I should at least know your name."

"Randall," He supplied with a slightly annoyed sigh. "Randall Darrel."

Micah nodded and then held out his hand to shake. "Thanks, Randall. You saved me."

"Naw, that was Dr. Pierce. He's pretty great-" Micah took a hold of his arm and shook his head.

"No," He whispered holding up the camera slightly, "This…this is my life. I'm sorry I didn't…look I can't really explain. But…I'll tell you that they're really important okay? They're important."

Randall frowned deeply. "Oh…oh well. Am I ever gonna find out? Cause I really did go through the entire Korean jungle-"

"You said you found it down the road!" Dr. Pierce interrupted taking Micah's file. "Don't listen to this character. He just too damn curious."

Micah smiled gently. "He's allowed….so you were gonna lie to me?" He asked Randall not looking to upset by the thought.

Randall sighed. "Lie is a…strong word. But I guess if you were gonna use a word for it…"

"Look," Micah started to say, "When I get these developed…I'll send you a copy of all of them. I'll be stateside but…I'll send them back here. You'll see them. You'll just have to wait for a little while longer. Okay?"

Dr. Pierce raised his brows apparently wondering if Randall would bite.

The man sighed. "I…I guess so. Just promise that you'll send me them? I don't wanna be waiting til the end of the war for them neither."

"With the way the mail goes round here, you might get them a month after the war ends," Dr. Pierce pointed out as he started to check out Micah's progress.

Micah laughed quietly nodding. "That's true. But I'll try…I promise…" He looked down at the camera and then added, "What do you want to see?"

"Huh?" Randall asked.

"When I get back home…I'll take a picture of something for you. Your girlfriend. Your home town. I'll go there and snap a picture. Whatever you want," Micah offered, "You deserved it. Even if you did find the camera on the road."

Dr. Pierce held back a laugh as he made a note on Micah's charts.

Randall ignored the doctor and answered, "A guitar."

"A guitar?" Micah asked. "That's it?"

"Yeah," Randall said with a sigh. "They wouldn't let me bring it. I've been checking the…" He looked around the room for Gil. When all was clear he finished, "Black market. But none. Only flutes and trumpets…a guitar picture. That ok?"

Micah nodded slowly. "That's perfect."

"Ok, you two best buddies," Dr. Pierced muttered while waving his hand at Randall, "The photographer here needs to get his rest. Out with you, guitar boy."

"If you say so, Doc," Randall got up slowly and started to walk away.

"Randall…could you come visit me? When you know…I'm awake?" Micah asked with a small voice as if he was embarrassed to admit that he liked the other man's company.

He nodded with a shrug. "Sure. Maybe I'll get out of you what's in those pictures yet."

But he never did. Every visit he would try. Micah would change the direction of the conversation and successfully distract Randall. It wasn't until five months after Micah left that Randall got a package. Two packages.

"What the…" Randall muttered looking at the small thin package next to the large one.

"What did the kid send you?" Addie asked with a furrowed brow as she sipped on a martini. "A whale?" She wagged her leg over the side of Randall's cot and snuggled closer to his chest.

Randall shrugged going for the smaller package first. "He might have. He was a little weird."

"Bull," Dr. Pierce muttered from the opposite cot. His eyes were closed and he was balancing a martini on his firm and flat stomach. "You liked the kid. I thought you were gonna do blood brothers or something at the end. I'd have to stitch you up cause you messed up."

Randall ignored his friend and opened the envelope. "Ok, Micah. Let's see what you were after. I'm hoping naked girls." He also ignored the slap from Addie. Then he carefully pulled out the pictures and uttered one word. "Holy…" The black and white shades depicted Korean families. Korean children. One child was crying and holding out her hands towards the sun. Another child was looking up at his mother with a lost look on his face. Another, hiding behind her doorway, in case the North Koreans came. There was a picture of a mother breast feeding her child, tears rushing down her face. A young boy holding a gun like it was his father's leg.

"Oh my God…" Addie whispered. "All of these…they're…"

Dr. Pierce had wandered over to get a look himself. A grave look was on his face. "He had a good reason to hide them from you. If they got in the wrong hands, these could be considered treasonous." He started to hum America the Beautiful under his breath.

Randall turned to the last picture. It was a guitar. Placed in the corner of a dark room, a quiet beam of light exposing its strings. "Thanks, man," He mumbled.

"Randall…there's something on the back," Addie took hold of the picture and turned it around. "There…" She pointed to scrambled handwriting.

"Hi, I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you before. I hope you like the picture. I know it's not as good as the real thing…but…." Randall pushed Addie away from his chest and tossed the pictures in Dr. Pierce's direction.

The doctor rushed to catch the pictures. "Hell, Randall! These are works of art."

Randall dropped down to the package on the ground and ripped off the brown paper. "Yeah…well so is this!" He opened the box and pulled out the same guitar that was in the photograph. "This is just…"

"Better than a picture, huh?" Addie asked sitting down next to him.

Randall looked down at the guitar for a moment. He remembered the way that Micah protected that camera, wanted to protect it even when he had a bullet in his chest. Now he realized that he wasn't just protecting a thing, he was protecting the lives of these children. These abused children that were usually ignored. Randall looked up at Addie and said quietly, "Almost."

Next Tale: Adam and May


	10. Adam and May

Note: Thanks to everyone who enjoyed the last chapter. And really, watch MASH it's worth it. Sorry for the delay as my recreational life has taken a back seat to working full time. If only I didn't need the money, then I would be putting out fanfics like no ones business. But since life don't really work that way, my stories will be slow. Sorry.

"Angel…Angel didn't you think that was…" Mimi tried to say poking her friend in the arm. But the drag queen was currently busy, making out with Collins as she had been doing since they heard the story of Ty and Anton. Apparently, they found it romantic. "Well at least I tried. Maybe we can tell them later."

"I listened," Collins mumbled between kisses, "Mark was a surgeon and Roger was a nurse."

Roger raised his brow and chuckled, "That's close enough, I guess."

The gypsy woman laughed showing her missing teeth to the friends who were gathered. "I wouldn't worry. I believe that your friend shall pay attention to this one. As it is about her."

Angel pulled herself from Collins' neck, her lipstick now smudged all over her face. "Hmm?"

Maureen and Joanne erupted into giggles, the lawyer passed Angel a tissue. "You might want to clean that up, sweetie."

The drag queen looked at the tissues suspiciously and wiped her make up off carefully. Then she did the same to Collins' neck. "So this next one is about me again? And who?"

"God, please don't let it be Collins again, or we'll never get out of here," Mark mumbled good naturedly.

"Sadly no," The woman said still cackling away. "This is the story of you and your dearest friend, May."

Spring 1958 Florida

May glanced around the general store that she was tending. The slight jingle of the bell attached to the door, told her that Mrs. Wercheck had finally left. The woman always liked to say hello, walk around the store for hours, and leave without buying anything. May never minded, she would get paid whether Mrs. Wercheck bought something or not. But that wasn't what May was worried about at the moment. She put a jump in her step and raced towards the cosmetics section. Then she picked out a compact with the proper powder and raised her head. The mirror exposed what she was trying to hide. A bruise on her chin. May patted the puff into the powder and then attempted to cover the purple circle. People didn't look too kindly on women not being able to hide their "family troubles" as they called it.

At the same time, Adam slowly walked into the store and put his hand over the bell that would alert his coming. That was the last thing he needed. As it was, he couldn't believe that he had the guts to even imagine what he was about to do. His eyes glanced over towards the cosmetics section and to see a sales girl freshening up. He'd have to wait. Adam put his hands in his khaki pockets and pretended to be interested in some handy tools. Wrenches, screw drivers, and nails. He never understood the fascination with them or even understood their function.

May snapped the compact closed and put it back on the shelf as if she had never used it. Then she sashayed back to the cash register, as she was feeling quite proud of herself. All morning she had worried that someone would notice it. Ask how she got it. And then ask her if she wasn't satisfying her man. It had happened to a girl, Bertina a whiles back. She left the store crying. May didn't want the same thing happening to her. Even though she hated Hazelbar, she couldn't leave her town. Not yet. She had to work up enough money for a train ticket, and then she could live the life she always wanted.

The coast was clear and Adam finally left the tools behind to find his real destination. The cosmetics center. He had experimented before. Stole his mothers make up for his own devices, but they weren't his colors. He paid enough attention to the women around him to see what colors worked on who and what colors didn't work on who. From this observation, he was sure that the pale colors were just not for him. He needed to make a statement…at least in the privacy of his own home. When his parents were away with his sister. And the neighbor wouldn't stop by…there were so many obstacles, but Adam knew he had to do this. Just had to do it for himself.

He glanced around the store making sure that it was empty besides the presence of the clerk. The radio played "Me and Mrs. Jones" filling the whole store with it's melody. The clerk seemed to be too interested in listening to the lyrics to pay attention to him. This was his chance.

Adam reached out slowly and picked up the reddest red lipstick that they carried. "Crimson Rose" it was called. He could imagine his mother's reaction to the color. "That is a devil red!" She would call out before spitting on the floor in disapproval. But then again, she would probably never approve of her son wearing make up. He carefully took off the cap and caressed the lipstick against the back of his hand. The feeling was better than kissing any girl, he decided. The red mark that was left behind made Adam grin. It was perfect, loud, but perfect.

Now came the part that Adam wasn't very proud of. How could he in good conscience buy a tube of lipstick without it traveling around in their very nosey town? There was no way he could. "I'm sorry," He muttered under his breath before slipping the lipstick into his side pocket.

"Me and Mr. Jones" turned now to the Temptations and May grumbled, "You are so over rated." But she didn't turn them off and turned to a magazine to flip through.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the cosmetics. Only a few more things and then he could leave. He really did want to get some foundation but that would take too long. Matching his skin tone perfectly was no easy feat, even his mother's cover up was a shade too dark. There was only time for mascara and eye shadow. He could always use his mother's eyelash curler.

He reached out for a generic tube of black mascara. That wasn't so difficult. After slipping it into his pocket, he started to investigate the eye shadow. Adam didn't notice that the music had turned off.

May walked towards the guy in the cosmetics section. Who did he think he was? Stealing make up for his girlfriend? Not only was that pathetic, but May knew that she would get in trouble…so much trouble if her manager found out that make up was stolen. And stolen by a young man of all people. She could hear him now. "You didn't notice a boy in the cosmetics section? Would have you recognized a walrus in the tool section?" No she couldn't loose this job.

She was about to open her mouth when she saw a red mark on his hand. At first she thought it was dried blood, but then she recognized the constancy. It was lipstick. Was…this was for him? May shook her head and walked towards him. "Excuse me…"

Adam dropped the eye shadow that he was gazing at. The perfect blue color powder was now broken on the ground. Although he wanted to lean down and somehow try to fix it, he froze. She saw him in the cosmetics. Maybe he could back away and he could pretend that he was just…curious. Maybe a chemistry project. Hopefully she didn't see him take the mascara and the lipstick…if she did…he would be arrested. And explaining that to the police officers…that would not be pleasant. Especially considering his father was one of them.

"I don't really think that's your color," May said quietly. She smiled at him gently. "I mean…blue?" She leaned down and picked up the remnants of the eye shadow. Then she placed it on the shelf. "Let someone else think that they broke it…"

Adam stared at the clerk as if she was insane. Was she really…did she really? "I um.."

"Don't worry about it. Let's see…" May tapped her chin and looked over the cosmetics then pausing every so often to look at the boy's skin. "Okay let's try this…this eye shadow is called Neapolitan. It's like the ice cream. Three different colors in one. It will save you in many situations. It's got the icy purple color kind of like the blue one but a little less popping. And then a sweet pink that would really bring out your brown eyes…and then of course a reliable light brown. When you just want to go out but not call attention to yourself, that's the way you go." She handed him the pack and grinned.

"Um…I…I can't really pay for this," Adam admitting trying to pretend that he wasn't blushing as deeply as he was. "Thanks…though."

May waved her hand. "Don't worry about it…and what about mascara and lipstick? Did you pick those out yet?" She asked pointing towards his lipstick mark on his hand. "That one is a statement that's for sure."

Adam smiled gently realizing that this girl was actually trying to help…she wasn't being mean or anything. She was going to help him. He pulled out what he chose and held them out for her to inspect.

She nodded at the mascara but picked up the lipstick, "Crimson Rose? You willing to go that far?"

Adam shrugged not knowing what to say. He did like it…

"Okay, well try this one too. It's called Frosty Pink. I know it might seem like a wimpy one in comparison to your Crimson," May winked at him, "But it really does look nice our skin tones. You should give it a try."

"Thanks," Adam said hesitantly. "But…I told you I…I can't really pay for it. Maybe one but…not all of them." He jumped when the bell chimed. More people were coming into the store. They weren't alone now. Adam's heart started to beat faster and faster with each breath.

May took the makeup from him. "Oh could you do me a favor…" She said rolling her hand and waiting for something.

Adam raised his brow and then it hit him, "Adam."

"Could you do me a favor Adam and bring these home for me? I know it's embarrassing for you to carry them around and all," May replied heading towards the cashier and motioning for Adam to follow her. "But you are my friend anyway…and what are friends for? I'll be sure to pick it up later, but my manager isn't crazy about me buying more make up. He says that I'm too young to wear so much." She just laughed animatedly and rung up the price of the make up.

Adam stared at May in awe as she placed her own money into the cash register. But she gave him a quick look, "Don't argue," it said. Adam looked behind him and the people who entered seemed to be on their way to the cash register with some idiotic questions to bother May with.

"Thanks, Adam, sweetie," May leaned across the desk and kissed his cheek. "Have fun, hun," She whispered into his ear.

A deep smile spread onto Adam's face. "You're…you're welcome," He said with a slight laugh of triumph. Then without another word, he left the store with the make-up in his hand.

May watched his leave, a matching smile on her face. Every once in a while she actually liked this job. The minute a customer plopped a worn out shoe on the counter, she remembered that she also hated it every once in a while.

* * *

Three months later, Adam walked back into the store wanting to properly thank May for her help. A lot of things had happened since she gave him a hand. Not only did he wear the make up but he did actually go out with it in public. And he did realize that the Frosty Pink was better than the Crimson Red. He let the bell ring and strained his neck to find the girl.

"I know…I won't do it again, I promise…I just wasn't thinking."

"You better believe it. You wasn't thinking, now you'll remember real well."

A high pitched scream hit Adam's ears. Without a thought, Adam ran towards the screaming to find May in the back room with a huge guy standing over her, his hand wrapped around her neck.

"Leave her alone!" Adam called out rushing up to the man and kicking him in the side.

The man dropped May and held his side as he howled in pain. Adam ran to May's side, he made sure that she was breathing well enough on her own. They were labored but May managed to get oxygen in and out of her body. When Adam was sure that the girl was okay, he stood up and balled his fists. "Get outta here. My father's a cop and one tip by me, he'll arrest you so fast you won't be able to reach for your keys," Adam called out.

"Why should I believe you, fruit?" The man asked with a laugh noticing the slight brown eye shadow on Adam's lids.

Adam simply pulled out his wallet and showed him a small picture of his whole family…and there was an older man in a police officer's uniform. The man looked back and forth between the photo and Adam with a confused look on his face. "May…you haven't heard the last-"

"Oh she has," Adam interrupted.

The man staggered out of the back room and Adam stood frozen until he heard the bell ring. He was gone. Adam sunk down next to May, "Are you okay?"

May rubbed her neck and slowly stood up with Adam's support. "I'm…I'll be ok." She walked out of the back room slowly and stopped at the cosmetic area. Then she pulled out a compact and started to place it on her red neck.

"No," Adam said taking the compact from her. "You shouldn't have to do that."

May smiled through her forming tears, "We're both hiding Adam. Just in our own ways." She took the compact back from him and continued to apply the makeup to her neck.

Adam knew that her words were true. He didn't think that he could ever go out in the daylight with Crimson Red on his lips. And he didn't think that, despite his warnings, that May's boyfriend would back down. They would both have to live with their troubles. He gulped and then took May's hand. "Maybe. But at least...at least we have each other...you know...we'll keep each other company."

May wiped away her tears and allowed herself to smile. Then he pulled Adam into a hug. And they held each other right next to the cosmetics center.

Next Tale: Tad and Maggie


	11. Tad and Maggie

Note: So yeah, this was one of my first ideas for this story, so it popped out awful quickly. Hopefully you like it, as much as I liked writing it. You might want to review Maggie's last chapter, but this is before the other one so if not, no worries. Enjoy. Btw, I stole the following song, lovingly, from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." Also, this does take place before the other Maggie chapter in my world, but my history timing is off a by a little. So don't use me as a source please, I'd rather not have you fail history tests because of me. Anyway! Enjoy.

Winter 1912 Chicago

The smoke in the speakeasy was enough for anyone, even the most seasoned smokers, to cough. But it fit the atmosphere. The lazy and mysterious atmosphere of the Blue Club as it was lovingly referred to. The only thing that was blue in the building however was the music and the bows on the waitress' necks. It was a cheeky club. People came from all around to drink their gin, ogle their girls, and listen to them make music together. Maggie and Tad.

It was just another night, another cigar to smoke, another round of drinks.

But she was sparkling that night. Maggie slowly walked out onto stage wearing a gold sequenced dress that showed too much leg and too much of her bosom. Then again, the smoke left enough to the imagination. She raised her head as she heard the first note on the piano. His dark hands against the white keys. A light lit up Maggie's delicate face. A smirk played on her face.

"You had plenty money 1892," Maggie sang sweetly, "You let other women make a fool of you, why don't you do right…like some other men do." She walked seductively down to the tables letting her hands grace the shoulders of high paying drinkers. Mobsters. Friends of the Owner. And more Mobsters. "Get out of here, get me some money too." Maggie leaned over to dangle her lips in front of Daryl Dane. A big time newspaper editor. He reached out to meet her lips, but she pulled back to sing, "You sitting down and wondering what it's all about if you ain't got no money, they will put you out. Why don't you do right like some other men do?"

A smirk spread on Tad's face. His fingers showing the playful and sexy qualities of his leading lady. It didn't matter how many times they preformed together, it was always just as exciting and hot as always. He'd heard patrons say that the smoke wasn't from the cigars and cigarettes, but their music. And he wouldn't doubt it.

"Now if you had prepared twenty years ago, you wouldn't be a wonderin now from door to door, why don't you do right…like some other men do?" Maggie sang as she slowly climbed back onto the stage, her behind shaking in time with the music. She paused next to Tad and winked at him, "Get out of here…get me some money too."

Tad took her hand as they rehearsed and she climbed up on top of the piano and lay down on it. "Why don't you do right…like some other men…do," She finished the spotlight going out on her face. There was applause. There was always applause. The curtain fell in front of the stage, which allowed Tad and Maggie to relax.

"Wow…you and Mr. Dane, huh?" Tad asked with a full laugh that was drowned out by the clapping.

Maggie jumped off the piano and poked him in the arm. "I know how to pick them. And anyway, I won't be doing all of this trashy singing always," She pointed out, taking her earrings out. "Shit, these things are killing me."

The two of them walked off stage as the chorus girls got in their places. Tad looked over a few of them and they giggled in response. Maggie turned back to look at those girls, glaring at them. The chorus girls gulped and tried to look away from Maggie. She was the queen around here, if they angered her, they would be out on the curb quicker than they could imagine.

"So what are you career aspirations today?" Tad asked as their reached Maggie's dressing room. He grabbed a cigarette from her vanity and lit it quickly as if he was a master at it. "Are you gonna be a lawyer or maybe a businesswoman? Go back to the stage? Or just go crawling back to your ex-husbands?" He asked with a laugh.

Maggie smacked his arm. "Oh stop. I'm not ever going to stoop that low again. I think I want to write for a newspaper," She explained as she slipped out of her dress.

Tad covered his eyes but he still managed to smoke. "Ah, now I get the near miss with the paper man. So you gonna sleep with him to get in his paper?"

"You…always think the worst of me…" Maggie said putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head. She pulled on her robe and mumbled, "You can look."

"Well I wouldn't consider it the worst. More like the truth sweet cheeks. That's how you got this job isn't it?" Tad asked with a giggle. He was always giggling, sometimes for no apparent reason at all. But Maggie couldn't help but find it charming.

Maggie smirked. "It was a part of it. But I didn't know that he was such an important man when I met him that night. And like you should talk…Mr…I bed every chorus girl for the fun of it."

"I beg to differ," Tad waved his hand in the air. "I haven't gotten to Cecily yet. Just give it time. She's Catholic…but I'll convince her, don't you worry."

The singer rolled her eyes and pushed him away from his vanity. "Thank God that you're in Chicago. Or else you would be lynched for doing that. Sleeping with how many white women…" She sat down in front of the mirror and plucked off her extra lashes and wiped her face clean of make up.

Tad stood behind her and then kissed her neck. "Hence I'm not in the south. I like it here. And you're here…which is a bonus."

"It is," Maggie said with a smile. "Now…do me a favor. Order me a drink at the bar and try not get mistaken for Langston Hughes."

"Can I help it that I look like I poetic genius?" Tad asked puffing out the smoke from his lungs.

"Oh would you get out!" Maggie laughed pushing him. "A girl deserves some privacy." Her friend only waved at her as he slipped out of her room. With a deep sigh, Maggie slipped out of her robe and picked out her best casual dress. She wanted to make a move tonight. She was sick and tired of watching Tad flirt with all of the chorus girls. What was wrong with her? She was just as beautiful as they were…maybe she should start flirting with him on stage…but then she knew that would probably get him arrested. Chicago was better than the south, but only behind closed doors.

Tad walked down the hall waving the passing by extra chorus girls whom giggled as if by cue. They were cute, he had to give them that, but they giggled as much as he did. Which could be slightly awkward. "Hey, Jim," He grabbed their stage manager, "Can you do me a favor? Get a drink down for Maggie and me. I'll be right down, just gotta make a stop."

"Sure thing, Tad," Jim said patting his arm. "Nice playing today."

Tad grinned. "Thanks…" Then he bounded away with an extra skip in his step. He walked through the hallways in the back of the club and eventually found himself in the lighting box. A smile on his face grew as he saw the outline of his lover. "They're still on. Shit, how do their legs stay on? Dancing all night? Screwing mobsters all day? I don't know how they do it."

The lighting man, Lauri, looked up at Tad with a grin. "It's the gin that they feed to them through tubes. Even if their legs fell off they wouldn't notice." He grabbed Tad's hand and pulled him into his lap. "We got until the song is over…then I gotta spot light on the conductor."

"Just as long as you have some time to spotlight me," Tad said flicking his cigarette in the corner.

"Always," Lauri mumbled before kissing him deeply.

Maggie arrived at the bar expecting for Tad to be ready and on his third cigarette for the night. But he wasn't even there. "Jerry," She asked the bartender while smacking her gum, "Where is Tad? He run off after some skirt or something?"

"Nope, Jim told me to keep these drinks warm for you, miss," Jerry explained, "You did a wonderful show today, miss."

"Thanks Jerry," Maggie groaned picking up her drink and taking a large sip.

A man towards her with a grin on his face. Daryl Dane. "She sings like a songbird, looks like a goddess, and imagine that, she can drink like a sailor." The newspaper mogul smirked taking Maggie's hand to kiss. "It's a pleasure to meet you Miss."

"I'm sure it is," Maggie smiled wondering if it would really be a sin to keep herself busy with a handsome and rich man. Tad didn't even know how she felt as of yet…so it wouldn't be bad at all. "Mr. Dane, I presume."

"You presume right. I'm sure that you knew who I was before…during your little song?" He asked pointing towards the stage. The chorus girls had just finished off their song, bowing more than any primadonna would.

"My little song?" Maggie asked authentically offended, "That little song sir took a lot of practicing. It's not so easy as turning on a radio." So much for getting a job with this clown. Now all she wanted was for him to walk away from her. She knew that people thought she was a bitch for being so testy, but she knew what she liked in a person and what she didn't like in a person. Dane had things she didn't like.

But Dane didn't catch the clue. "Let me guess, you and the Negro aren't on the same tune."

Maggie tightened her hand around her glass. "He has a name you know."

Dane shrugged. "Does it really matter? They're all the same anyway, any of them could play music like-" He was interrupted by Maggie tossing gin into his face.

"Jerry…" Maggie said calmly. "Can you do me two favors?"

The bartender gulped and nodded. "Of…of course Miss."

"Get Peter and tell him to introduce Mr. Dane to the curb and then pour me a new drink," Maggie said holding out her glass, "I had to waste it on trash."

The newspaper mogul's jaw dropped. "You…you can't do that."

"Just did, sweetie," Maggie winked at him as Peter came up behind the man. "You'll get along just fine with Peter. He's another one of those you know…" The bouncer cracked his dark knuckles and pulled the man off of the floor. Maggie only laughed in her victory.

She glanced towards the stage to see the conductor of the band waving at the light box. He was missing his spotlight. Maggie shook her head knowing that Lauri fallen asleep on the job again. "So, Jerry, do you think that what I just did was wise?"

"I…I don't think Mr. Grisham will be happy miss," The bartender pointed out.

Maggie sighed, the owner of the club liked to keep everything clean and open…to corruption that is. She shrugged, "I'll make it up to him. A new number. Maybe this time Tad can sing and I'll play." It was a joke to the bartender who let out a belly laugh of approval, but Maggie was being serious. She was one of the few people who had heard him sing. And it was just as beautiful as her own voice, if not more.

"Thank you!" The conductor called out as he finally got a spotlight.

The customers laughed clapping their hands as they thought it was part of the show. "Who knew that the conductor was so full of himself?" Maggie muttered to herself, although she knew that she would be equally upset if Lauri managed to fall asleep during her performance. But for some reason, he'd never fallen asleep while she was performing. Maybe he had a crush on her…

"Hello there," Tad said taking a seat next to her. "You look rather…happy with yourself. Did you break someone's heart?" He asked nodding to Jerry and taking his drink.

"Maybe," Maggie smirked. "I turned down the Dane. He was a horrible fellow. Believe me, I'm glad you never meet him."

Tad pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it quickly. "Can't say that I'm heart broken about missing him. Heard he's an ass. But you tend to like that in a guy don't you?"

"Haha," Maggie grumbled punching his arm. "You're a bit of an ass yourself."

"Makes me wonder why you aren't around me more often," Tad raised his brows suggestively but just giggled in a puff of smoke.

The singer paused and wondered if this was the moment. It seemed like the best opportunity. She licked her lips and opened them, "Odd that you should mention that-" She was cut off my screams and shouts.

The two friends turned around to see a battalion of police officers enter the illegal club.

"Oh this is just dandy," Tad mumbled as he took her hand and tried to guide her towards the kitchen. But an officer came out of it with his gun at the ready. "Just dandy…"

Maggie still held tightly onto his hand as the detective stood on a table. The patrons, the workers, everyone was frozen in fear. "All right everyone. We know that you ain't drinking no apple juice in your glasses. Everyone in this room is under arrest."

Voices immediately reacted in shock, anger, and fear. The ever present smoke somehow seemed to lessen in the room. They could see the detective just fine. One chorus girl seemed particularly upset by the news.

"Oh, damn. Betty wants to put on a show," Maggie grumbled under her breath. The chorus girl was determined to do anything to take Maggie's place. Tad even told her to avoid eating anything that the girl would give to her. She was that jealous.

"I…I'm too young to go to jail, Mr.Detective. I've done nothing wrong here. Just danced…there are other people in here…who do the work of the devil. They are the ones that really deserved to be arrested," Betty cried, milking every tear for what it was worth.

Maggie raised her brow. "Who is she going after?" She asked knowing that there were plenty of crooks to chose from in this place. But all of them had a posse. They all had a group that would come and kill a little girl like her with no problem for ratting them out. "She's gotta be suicidal…Tad?"

Her piano player was staring at the girl with a sick look on his face.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" The detective asked. Of course he was interested. If he caught a whole speakeasy and some other crime in one night, they would love him forever at the precinct. "What type of devil's work happened here?"

Betty sniffed as if she was personally hurt by it. "The worst act that one can ever do. The worst defiance of the Lord. Sodomy."

Tad snapped his head to look at the light box hoping that he got out in time. He knew that he would have no hope.

"Sodomy!?" The detective asked appalled. "Well who did it sweetheart?"

"Lauri Goodman and Tad Greenlee. I saw them…committing the heinous act," Betty said pointing towards Tad. Gasps and heads darted towards Tad's direction. All of the color from Maggie's face faded. All of this time…she thought as she looked up at him as well. But the piano player didn't want to give anyone time to gawk. He darted away towards the stage knowing that they probably hadn't covered the back entrances. The captain of the police blew his whistle on him, as others of his men went in search of Lauri. With all of the confusion, the workers and customers of the Blue Club stampeded for the door. They weren't the main targets anymore.

Maggie held onto the bar watching her best friend try to find his way to safety. Just as he reached the back stage, he was punched in the face by their stage manager. He hit the ground with a loud smack. Maggie closed her eyes trying not to cry for herself, or for her friend.

"State your name please."

"Maggie. And that's all you'll need, thank you," She said in a cheery sing song voice. The jail warden grumbled and tilted his head, allowing her to visit.

Slowly she walked into the meeting room and smiled when she saw Tad already waiting, wringing his hands quickly. She knew him too well. He always did that when he was nervous, but there was no need to be. That was for sure. Maggie sat down in front of him, "Hello stranger. I've missed you."

Tad's wringing hands stilled and a smiled spread across his face. "You…" Then he bit his lip nodding and knowing that all was well between the two of them. "I've missed you too. They don't let me mooch off of other people's rooms here. And even if they did, none of the cells are as nice as your dressing room."

"Honey, please," Maggie said waving her hand. "If my dressing room looked like one of these cells I still would be with my second husband."

Tad just giggled, glad to be able to do that again.

The smile on Maggie's face faded as her thoughts turned to more serious things, "Have you heard from Lauri? I heard he was never caught."

Tad nodded slowly looking down at his hands, "Yeah. That's the blessing of being up there. No one sees you and everyone forgets about you. It was convenient…and no. I haven't heard from him. And he hasn't come down to see me or anything."

"Not even a note?" Maggie asked.

"No," Tad said quietly, "I guess we weren't meant to be."

Maggie sat up and put her hand on the grate that separated them. "Why didn't you tell me, sweetie? I thought you were…I thought that you were sleeping with every girl in the Club but me."

"I kinda…wanted to keep that belief. Didn't want this to happen," He said pointing to where they were, "And I didn't want to hurt anyone in the process. Though I guess I did…I never meant to hurt you, Maggie. You're my best friend." He put his hand up against the grate their hands meeting.

Maggie only winked at him trying not too loose her smile, "You threw me for a loop, you did do that. But I understand. Somehow I understand you."

"You're one of the precious few that do. In fact, the only one," Tad added trying to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. "If it's…any help at all…if I was to be with any woman out there…you'd be first on my list."

"Before the chorus girls?" Maggie asked wistfully.

"Before the chorus girls," Tad giggled placing his hand on his lips and then on the grate where Maggie's hand lay. "I love you, girl."

"I love you, too," Maggie replied.

Next Tale: Jessica and Bella


End file.
